Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

December 13th, 2012 - 9:40 PM

Snow cascaded from the clouds. Enveloping itself in thick layers, forming a frigid, fluffy expanse over the ground. Trees shed their final signs of life, leaves quickly cloaked by the white powder that rained from above. Ebenezer, peered through his bedroom window with a spark of admiration gleaming in his youthful gaze. The inferno that heated his room crunched and crackled. He stood and threw a small yet hearty hand full of branches into the blaze. The blaze ascended reverently, embracing their newfound members. A smile unfurled upon Ebenezer's face. The warmth of the fire thawed his heart with a joyous spirit of festivity. Could this be the Christmas that Ebenezer so yearned for? Perhaps reminiscent of Christmases from the Past. Long past. Before little Fan graced the earth, before Mother leant into her eternal rest. Before Father raised his hands in fury rather than in mirth..

With hope coursing through his veins, Ebenezer rose from his knees and approached his door - reaching for the handle and intending to tug. Until a scream could be heard from beneath him.

"Father, Please-" Little fan, only aged five, begged as Father approached her. A mostly empty bottle in his hands, the remnants within swirled and sloshed with each vigorous motion of his arm, poised to descend upon her. Yet, with a remarkable quickness, she scurried away, narrowly evading the collision. Instead, hitting the corner of her head against a table. A faint yet distinct crack echoed at the impact. sharp agony coursed through her head, she; brave enough to not shed tears immediately quickly rose. She fled with her little legs across the hall and up the stairs. Father firstly observed the spilled liquor as the bottle had cracked into smithereens upon contact with the floor.

"You little shit!! Get back down here!" Father chased after, but shortly gave up when he turned a corner and lost sight of her. She slid herself into Ebenezer's room, he, as sagacious as she, had kept his door open - waiting for her.

"Oh Fan.. What has he done now?" Ebenezer, only aged eight, observed her injuries. She seemed spotless, aside from previous bruises and scarring that they both shared.

"I only hit my head against a soft edge, I'll be okay, Eb." She wept into his chest, He embraced her tenderly and soothed her. Softly, he brought her to the fire and sat her down on her knees. The pair nestled closely, ensconced within its gentle warmth. The one of higher youth yawned, catching the attention of the eldest.

"It's quite late, Fan. We better off get to sleep." Ebenezer looked down at his left shoulder where she lay, her eyes riddled with worry and concern.

"Could I sleep with you? I'm scared-" Fan fiddled with her hands - but being the kind-hearted brother he was, Ebenezer nodded and helped her climb into his bed. She curled her arms around him, not much bigger than her. He reciprocated the gesture, enveloping her in tender embrace, guiding her into tranquil slumber.

Yet upon waking, Ebenezer beheld a sight he never wish to witness again.

The peaceful rays of the winter sun roused him from slumber, but It didn't wake Fan. For Fan was dead, no shadow of a doubt about it. Though to young Ebenezer, her death was a mystery. He woke that morning to Fan, still cradled in his embrace - but she wasn't the same Fan as she was the night before. Her face sagged in tears and a viscous, yellow tinted liquid that seeped from her ears, nose and eyes. Her complexion wan and horrid, unlike her customary rosy, tender visage. The chill of death coursed through Fan's blood, rendering Ebenezer's spirit even colder. Darkened shadows beneath her round eyes revealed the pallor of a life extinguished. Her mouth and lips parched. The back of her head, where Ebenezer's hand had been placed during the night lay smeared with fresh crimson, a testament to her final thoughts. Examining her scalp, Ebenezer found a softer spot towards the crown. Her skin held it closed, but blood had somehow penetrated. Little fan, only aged five, lay lifeless. In Ebenezer's arms. His first and only instinct was to scream - calling the attention of their Father from downstairs. For once in his life, he did the right thing - dialed for help.

7:15 AM

The incessant beeping of the Holter monitor from the room behind Ebenezer reverberated violently in his ears. It coursed through his entire, small body, and with every delayed or quiet beep - he felt his own heart stop. The ten minutes that they endured in anticipation for a final verdict seemed to stretch into an eternity. The clock before him was the only thing that kept him sane. Yet he was soon to snap. The door to his left creaked ajar, a doctor of grave expression emerged from the room. His eyes glistened with beady, unshed tears. The doctor's expression spoke to Ebenezer in a way words never could. They told him all he had to know. That being, Fan was no more. A silent discourse was exchanged between his father, Edward, and the doctor who nodded and bit his tongue. Edward had a very minimal, if even, a reaction. No thoughts or emotion passed him apart from anger that began to boil within him. Now, tears streamed down Ebenezer's youthful countenance like waterfalls. Tears that didn't stop falling and instead gained speed. Then, panic began to settle within him and reached its climax when Ebenezer's mouth flew open and uncontrollable words escaped him

"It's YOUR FAULT. YOU KILLED HER." Ebenezer was hysteric, his father's eyes rose to him - empty and cold. His voice just as icy as his gaze.

"You dare raise your voice at me, boy?" He silenced Ebenezer, but only momentarily.

"If you didn't hit her, or drink last night she'd STILL BE HERE!" He was inconsolable and vocal. So vocal infact that it drew the attention of nearby nurses and doctors in the rooms that surround them. He continued to scream and yell, accusing his father of her death.

"You ought to shut that mouth before I SHUT IT FOR YO-" Edward rose from his seat and approached Ebenezer, who sat across him. His arm was raised and hand was flat - ready to strike the boy before him. Before his hand was halted by the force of another man, a security guard dressed in black. Many of them. Three, to be exact. The number of men seized Edward's arms, curling their own arms under and over his. Then dragging him away down the hall whilst he writhed and bellowed unrepeatable insults at his own blood.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER- LET ME GO! LET ME FUCKING GO!! IT WASN'T M-" The screams of his father were flushed out by the hands of a nurse, covering Ebenezer's ears and cradling him at her side whilst being gently guided down the hall and away from the scene. Copious tears cascaded down his visage, his throat hoarse from cries. Turning his head lightly, Ebenezer saw a final glance of his Father. No guilt could be spotted in his eyes, only anger and resentment. The man who used to cradle him and speak words of affection and care now beat him and spoke curses of spite and malice.

A much calmer setting soon surrounded Ebenezer. A colourful room, filled with playful images plastered on the walls, toys scattered lazily across the floor and large, open windows that allowed the flow of fresh, free air. For a good while, he was alone. Only accompanied by the sounds of his own hysteric, profuse wails. Eventually, a nurse entered the room and sat opposite him on the floor. A small, round table between them.

"Ebenezer, yes?" The nurse was young, frightfully so. She couldn't have been a day over twenty two. There was a nametag attached on her uniform that read "Nurse Kayla T.". Below her name was a smaller print that read "Childcare Specialist".

Ebenezer nodded and sniffled, unwilling to speak.

"I'm Kayla, I know what happened earlier and I'd like to know why you said what you did. Could you tell me?" Kayla's tone was soft and gentle. It inclined Ebenezer to trust her, but he was hesitant. Instead of words, a silent hiccupy breath escaped Ebenezer. Nurse Kayla didn't speak either, giving him space.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but-" She began, but Ebenezer was quick to interrupt her - having gained a sudden confidence and trusting for the nurse.

"My Dad hit us. Me and my sister." Ebenezer's tone was cold and genuine. The nurse's eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed. He continued.

"When my Mum died giving birth to Fan, My Dad started drinking.." A soft sniffle accompanied his words. Nurse Kayla was still as stone, she watched him and listened attentively.

"He hit Fan a lot more than me. But he hit both of us." His left hand reached over to his right wrist and pulled up his shirt sleeve. His arm was scattered with deep indigo bruises and harsh scarlet scratches that curled and bent around the thin curvature of his emaciated arm. His skin was fair, much too fair to be healthy. In fact, when Nurse Kayla's eyes returned to Ebenezer's face - she could now see how ghastly the boy was. His cheekbones defined and the skin that made up his visage was close to clear. Vessels of blood were visible beneath his eyes and around his lips. Though he was young, incredibly so, only at age eight - he appeared much more solemn and aged. Ebenezer could be assumed for ten, or even eleven. Kayla's eyes widened and breath quickened. A sudden shock came over her, this boy was being serious.

Ebenezer seemed unusually unphased. He kept his sleeve rolled and continued speaking, very lightly and calmly.

"He hit Fan last night. She fell and hit her head. it's why she died. It's his fault."

Nurse Kayla took a deep breath, almost like a thoughtful swallow and bit her tongue. Then, she conjured an idea and released the grip on herself

"Could you possibly write that down for me?" Her eyes a-gleam, She stood up and picked up a piece of paper from the corner of the room - initially intended for drawing. Out of her lab pocket, she slid out a pen and placed it forth of Ebenezer. He rolled his sleeve down and stared at the paper, hesitating to grab the pen.

"Theres no rush. You can take your time writing it." She sat crosslegged from Ebenezer, calming herself down quickly and reassuring him - sensing his nervousness.

Taking a glance at her, Ebenezer sighed and picked the pen up - then began to write slowly and with care. For the entire statement, she watched him attentively. Occasionally, Ebenezer's hands would shake and fear would overcome him; causing him to pause and take a breath, but he was quick to keep writing. His resilience shook Kayla even more. After about seven minutes of writing, both sides of the page were full with small, shaky writing and years of terror - encapsulated in short paragraphs. When he was done, Ebenezer pushed the paper towards Kayla and returned the pen with it. She gazed over both sides and raised her head to smile at Ebenezer, whose face was cold as ice and still as stone.

"You're a very, very brave boy Ebenezer." Nurse Kayla took the paper and folded it, sliding it into the same lab pocket that held the pen. Taking a phone from a different pocket, she dialed a number quickly and spoke into the phone even faster. So fast that Ebenezer couldn't quite comprehend her words, much too distracted by the colourful crayons in front of him and the table he was sat at - covered in streaks of waxy colour. Most likely drawn on many weeks ago, for it did not smudge when he touched it. The streak didn't budge at all. It felt like the same texture as the table, as if inter-grated into the table itself.

Without Ebenezer even noticing, another nurse entered the room and Kayla gave her the piece of paper with his statement on. She whispered something in the other nurse's ear. Who nodded and was steadfast to leave the room.

The autopsy of Fan Claude only proved what was written by her brother, Ebenezer. She, too, was covered in sleeves of bruises and marks - so deep in her skin that they had caused permanent muscular and skeletal damage. This included her ankles, kneecaps and wrists being disfigured, her growth being stunted and some of her bones having broken and being left untreated - causing further disfigurement. Fan Claude's cause of death was confirmed a brain herniation and a cerebrospinal fluid leak from the brain as a result of punctured brain tissue. Ebenezer's condition was less severe, but he was plagued with large bruises, deep scars and scratches and a slower rate of cognitive development due to blunt force trauma to the head. Edward Lionel Claude was sent to court and charged with two counts of child abuse and one count of third degree murder - landing him thirty-five years in prison with no chance of parole. He will be aged sixty-three at his release whilst Ebenezer Claude will be aged forty-three at his release. Edward lost all custody of his child, Ebenezer, and will, most likely, never see his son again. Nor will Ebenezer ever see his Father again. He had been orphaned.

Chapter Text

The days that followed Fan's death left Ebenezer plain. Quite literally wiped and scrubbed of emotions, aside from a heavy sprinkling of tears and panic attacks that seemed endless until they, well, ended.  Now that his Father, who he refused to relate to and strictly referred to as Edward, had been jailed and sister was dead - Ebenezer had been placed in an orphanage. He was an orphan with no place to go. He had no living relatives that could take care of him. A boy so young, left so desolate in a world he was so new to. The orphanage was owned by a caregiver and Ebenezer's situation ached the Caregiver's heart. Said Caregiver was simply named something not so simple, Delacroix. A woman past the prime of life, but a nice woman nevertheless. French, yet she hardly recalled a lick of it. Her age not only limited her mobility but also her memory - which wasn’t exactly suitable for remembering names of children. Their faces were what she recognised, but Ebenezer’s awfully old fashioned name did stand out in her realm of mind, making him somewhat memorable but not favourited, let it be known! Ebenezer didn't really seem to care for how nice or caring Delacroix was though. He could hardly try pronounce her name, let alone care to learn how to. In fact, he didn't seem to care for anything anymore. Sleep was minimal for with sleep came night terrors and memories of Fan. Eating was minimal for Ebenezer had not known full meals for many years. He cared for none of it. Nor did he care for the date, even though a calendar hung in the main hall of the orphanage. He'd check sometimes, last night - it had been January fifteenth. It had been an entire month that Fan had been gone and that he had been fatherless. Yet, he cared so little and felt even less. A clean slate, but not exactly clean. More so numb. Numb and cold. There was a heavy focus on finding a new family for Ebenezer, primarily due to his situation - but his age also played a factor.

"He's much past the point of simply forgetting what happened. Say, if this had happened when he was three or younger - it'd be easier to have him forget.. But that just won't be possible for Ebenezer, he's much too old for that unfortunately. It's been making him very.. hard to place-" Delacroix cleared her throat, observing the faces of the couple before her. They were in her office, discussing the adoption of Ebenezer Claude. The couple, who had the slightly laughable and head-turning surname "Fezziwig" were a young bunch, as orphans adopters tend to be. The man of the two, Nigel, was bordering twenty six. Whereas the woman, Claire was only halfway through twenty five. They held hands tightly as Claire sighed, staring at the paperwork before her. Nigel sensed her disappointment and tried to rectify the sorrow of the situation.

"Well, We're sure he's perfect as he is. What happened is.. terrible, truly. But it shouldn't define him, no?" He smiled as Claire blinked and a twinkle of optimism glittered in her eyes. Delacroix, too, smiled sweetly at the two. She saw their dedication for a child and it warmed her old, wrinkled heart. It showed in her shrivelled dimples. Her face reminiscent of an aged yellow plum.

Claire nodded and sucked in a breath "Could we maybe meet him..? If that's possible - of course!" Eager, she was the one to ask about meeting the child.

"Of course, would you like to follow me?" Delacroix stood, her elbows cracking as she grabbed her cane and slowly made her way across the room using it. The couple followed her tail, or more like her draping black gown, reminiscent of a nun’s attire, as she guided them to the dining room which doubled, no, tripled as a study room and a hangout centre for the inhabitants - the children. Despite his condition, Ebenezer was very focused on his studies. He especially excelled in English and the Sciences, the teacher at the Orphanage, who also honed a long French name, was said to have often commended his skills in said subjects. It was the one thing he seemed to enjoy nowadays, alongside reading and staying very quiet. So quiet in fact that he disappeared as soon as he entered a room - for he was never noticed. Not like he wanted to be anyways. It was probably better for him not be.

On the way across from the office, Claire linked her arm to Nigel's and rested her hand on his sturdy forearm.

"Excited?" Nigel smiled as Claire grimaced nervously and twiddled her fingers on his arm.

"More like nervous.. I just don't want to accidentally say the wrong thing." She glared up at Nigel, assertive and a lot calmer than she.

"I can do most of the talking, I always do anyways." He nudged her gently and she giggled, huddling closer to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I just want everything to go well..  We've never been so close-" With a sigh, Claire began to speak quieter as they approached the room. Slowly, though. Delacroix was their guide and she was much too fast for comfort despite the crackly knees and cane. So, the couple stayed behind as much as they could

"Everything will go great, trust me Claire - We'll have a son soon." The two stopped briefly before the door, exchanging a hug and a light kiss before taking a deep breath each and entering the hall. Ebenezer was alone. Sat in the corner, curled up in his wooden seat with a thin book on a small, rounded desk before him. The window at his left was ajar, but shut violently as the stormy winterwind from outside forcefully slammed it closed. Even so, the sound of the rain soothed Ebenezer. Despite having spent several weeks in the orphanage already under good care, or at least good enough care, he still looked very frail and emaciated. His skin was pale and ghastly, arms and legs thin as the bones that he was made of and his hair flakey and dry. In colour, it much resembled Nigel's. In fullness, not so much. The clothes he wore - though in the smallest size available drooped over and around him like water. His eyes slick with tears that seemed to never dry up, even after the very visible death of his sister. At the arrival of Delacroix and the couple, Ebenezer turned his head and flinched gently. His curled stature grew tighter and more anxious.

"Ebenezer," Delacroix’s voice was soft and mellow, Nigel and Claire watched as the boy loosened - a testament to the excellent care of the Caretaker and her dedication to making a child's life better. Or it could simply be nothing but adjusting.

"I have some people who'd like to meet you. Is that okay?" She was gentle with her words, asking for Ebenezer's permission to meet the couple to build consent and trust between them. In response, Ebenezer nodded and pursed his lips anxiously. From behind Delacroix came the Fezziwigs. Pulling the two closest seats together, they sat down beside one another and held hands tightly. Claire sniffled in adoration of the boy, for she could see physical fragments of herself and Nigel within him. Chestnut hair, soft, round brown eyes - like their own son. A sweet boy from the outside, so undeserving of such suffering, anguish and torment. Especially at his age.

"This is Nigel and this is Claire. They wanted to talk to and meet you" Delacroix stepped to the side, watching as Nigel took the floor, clearing his throat gently and began conversation with young Ebenezer. 

"You like Science, yeah?" He observed the book that Ebenezer had now placed at his lap, his knees unbuckled from his chest and swung softly off the edge of the seat. Most children his age had feet that met the ground, but his stunted growth kept them swinging. At the mentioning of a current hyper-fixation of his, Science, Ebenezer nodded vigorously and smiled lightly.

"What's your favourite part of Science?" Including herself slowly, Claire leaned forward.

"I like Chemistry and Physics.." Ebenezer spoke in a subdued manner, a peculiar rasp in his voice. A rasp unexpected from a boy so bright in years.

"Chemistry and Physics? Oh you must be amazing at equations!" Nigel's voice remained bubbly and effervescent. It brought a glimmer of acceptance in Ebenezer's eyes. He didn't feel like as much of an outcast now - and he had only spoken a few words to the man and the woman at his side.

Suddenly, the room went solemn as Ebenezer's smile faded and eyes went flat again.

"Are you here to take me back to my Dad-?" Now, his voice was cold and still sounded of age, only more so now. Awfully similar to the voice of the fiend that was his father.

To this, The Fezziwigs had no response. Instead, they looked toward Delacroix - who's eyes widened as she leaped into concern. However, Nigel spoke before she could think to move her frail bones.

"No. We want to give you a new, safe home. Where you're loved. We know what happened, with your sister and Dad." For a moment, Scrooge looked hopefully at Nigel. Yet, however bad he wanted to trust him - he couldn't and tears began to stream down his slick cheeks. Ebenezer sniffled from his nose and curled his face into the book before him. Pain began to rise from each bruise, scratch and mark, each hit of Edward's hand felt as if it had been done in the moment and his entire body began to itch and sting. Dropping the book, Ebenezer's hands curled over his arms and he shook with anguish. Soon after, his voice overcame the white noise of the rain outdoors - despite the storm being torrential. Now, it's drips weren't soothing and instead riled his terror. Screams and wenches of pain escaped him, before pleas of mercy and wails of affliction overcame the pain. Hurriedly, Nigel and Claire stood in shock. Confused by his sudden outburst. Delacroix, in a panic, ushered the couple out the room and sent for a Matron Nurse to tend to him. Said Matron Nurse sped down the stairs and made her way into the hall, nodding her head at the Caregiver and the Fezziwigs as she passed by and entered the room where Ebenezer's panic attack continued through the walls. Delacroix bit her lip anxiously in front of the couple, slowly returning to the office. They followed shortly behind.

On the way to the office, Claire's face was still as stone - as if she had seen a ghost. The remorse she felt for the boy was unfathomable. Her eyes were almost as empty as Ebenezer's. Nigel sighed heavily and chewed his tongue awkwardly, too, feeling remorseful. Once having entered the office and sat back down, Jane sat down hurriedly and cupped her face into her hands as if disappointed. Not in Ebenezer, but in herself.

"I'm sorry about that.. truly-" She stifled a sniff, Claire and Nigel watched in slight confusion. Suddenly, a nurse entered the office with a scant amount of worry across her face too. At the sight of Delacroix, she sighed and began. Sparing her some breath.

"He has.. episodes. Often. We can only guess that it's a trauma response. From what we see, he suddenly experiences pain from each mark on his body - sort of as if remembering the sting of each one. He curls up and starts screaming, he can get pretty violent." The nurse spoke of the situation casually, the attacks must've been truly frequent.

"Sometimes, there's night terrors too. Screaming, waking up in profuse tears and begging for his sister. The boy's a bit of a burden, but he is lovely-" Almost in a way to get rid of Ebenezer, the nurse was trying to convince the Fezziwigs that adopting the boy was a good idea. Her tone was passive and irritated, as if she’d had enough of him.

"Marlene.. that's no use-" Softly, Delacroix whispered under her breath before rising from her hands in a sigh. "We completely understand if that has drawn you off the boy, we have plenty others-" Despite her softness, she was harshly interrupted by Nigel.

"We'll gladly have him. His ailments don't define him. He is lovely and we'll try our best to give him the childhood he deserves." The way Nigel described Ebenezer as 'lovely' almost mocked the nurse, who seemed pretty eager to have the boy off her hands already.

"Are you certain? It won't be easy-" Again, Delacroix found room to speak but was cut off.

"Parenting is not supposed to be easy, is it? We want to give the boy what he deserves. Easy or not, it's a burden we're willing to take on." He spoke for both himself and Claire who watched in adoration. A man so dedicated to making a child's life happy was a man she wanted in her life, and was more than thankful to have. However, his tone did seem rather passive aggressive. She lied a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

There was a short silence after, Delacroix and the nurse exchanged an affirmative glance. Pulling paperwork from a cabinet at the desk she was sat on, she handed them it alongside a pen. It was an adoption deed. Nigel picked up the pen and glanced at Claire, who hung onto his arm and nodded once firmly. He put his head down and signed what had to be signed vigorously. The sheet was filled in within minutes and handed back. Delacroix reviewed it hastily and placed it at her side with a smile.

"Well, we'll arrange the first visit from a social worker as soon as possible. To ensure the home is a safe environment, of course." A small calendar slid out from another shelf. She flicked to the next page, January.

"The soonest someone can come visit is next week. Monday." Nigel and Claire agreed, stating they were available. Delacroix’s frail hand marked the date "February 5th".

"Well.. It's settled then!" Jane stood from her chair and shook both the hands of the couple before they left. A smile plastered on both their faces the entire way home.

The six months that followed contained periodic checks from social workers, police checks, medical examinations and signing of paperwork. The home of the Fezziwigs seemed to be constantly bustling with unfamiliar faces. Yet, they hung onto the hope that it would all be worth it. For soon, they would have a new member of their family. A member so sought after by them, especially Claire. A son. A child would add so much to their dynamic, for parenthood is a journey that can only be experienced by the luckiest of couples. Naturally, a couple would want a child of their own. However, Claire suffered from endometriosis. This much lowered her fertility and made having children - a lifelong dream of hers, made impossible. For years, it left them both distraught and hopeless when it came to starting a family. However, when Nigel suggested adoption, she found purpose again.

Though the process was gruelling on both her mind and hands, which had to constantly be signing papers, she was sure it would be worth it. Nigel was just as hopeful as she was, for he had always wished for a son to take on his legacy. So, when the day came to pick up Ebenezer from the orphanage and officiate their adoption of him - the two rushed to the Orphanage with anticipation and hope stuffing their hearts. At the door of the Orphanage stood Jane with Scrooge at her side, a plethora of uniformed children watched from the large open window and waved Ebenezer goodbye - but he didn't seem to care much for he didn't wave anybody goodbye nor glance their way. Instead, he followed Delacroix with his head hung low and gaze set to the ground. Entering the car, he was gentle but clearly quite stunned and confused. Buckling himself in, he stared at the rearview mirror where he could see the eyes of Nigel Fezziwig. Eyes he recognised. Unbuckling his seatbelt for more mobility, Nigel turned in the car and faced Ebenezer - smiling at the sight of him.

"I know this is all a bit.. confusing right now. But, we only want to give you a safe and loving place to live. We'll be your parents now, Ebenezer." Nigel watched as Ebenezer curled his arms around his knees and sat crosslegged in his seat.

"Please don't call me that." Just as before, his tone was cold and mellow.

"Oh, is there something else we should call you?" Curious as to he wasn't a fan of his own name - Nigel grew confused.

"He gave me that name. I don't want to have his name." It could only be assumed that the "He" in question was Edward - Ebenezer's father. "Could you call me Scrooge instead, please?"

"Scrooge?" Claire suppressed a giggle, for the name sounded slightly silly.

"It was my Mum's surname, before she married him. I'd rather be called that." For how observant he was claimed to be, he didn't seem to notice Claire's giggle. Or instead, he simply ignored it.

"Scrooge it is! You can just call me Nigel and call her Claire. If that's alright with you?" Nigel kept the conversation casual and fast paced, as if he was talking to a friend.

Scrooge nodded with a smile, feeling quite welcome by Nigel and Claire already. He released the tension in his legs, but kept tight around his arms. The drive home wasn't populated by conversation, but there was an occasional mumble between the couple. 

A wide, excited smile was plastered on Claire's face. Uncontrollable happiness had her jigging in her seat.

"Now what's got you so giddy?" Nigel asked with a smirk, Claire turned to him with beady, eager eyes.

"We're a family now. We have a son." She whispered, but was very aware that Scrooge could hear them. "All thanks to you-" Their hands interlocked and they smiled at one another. Briefly, Nigel glared into his rearview mirror and got a look at Scrooge. From their initial meeting, his physical condition seemed slightly improved. Scrooge seemed to have a bit more muscle on him and his skin had a lively, pink tint to it as opposed to the grey that used to shadow his bones and undereyes. His eyes themselves seemed to be brighter and fuller of life. The Fezziwig's simply couldn't wait to fill them with even more life and joy than ever seen before. Parenting was a joy from the very start to the end, as they’ve been told.

After a short twenty minute drive - the new family arrived at home. Scrooge peered out his window curiously, for the house seemed rather large - but didn't at all resemble his old home. Nigel and Claire left the car first, then Nigel opened the door for Scrooge. He hopped out eagerly, though a twinge of fear still remained in him. To give Scrooge his space, Nigel kept a safe but short distance from the boy. He seemed to appreciate and respect that. When entering the house, Scrooge was cautious and light with his steps - as if the home was fragile. His small mouth gaped open, observing the scene forth of him. From first impression only, the home already seemed cozy and, well, homey. The colours used in the furniture and paint were all shades of soft, comforting brown or thought provoking shades of green and beige. It was a soft, plush environment. So unlike the one he was most familiar to, which was made up of creaky floorboards and peeled, aged wallpaper. Even the air in the home was scented with the essence of safety and comfort. A gentle, linen-like smell paraded around the house and seemed to glue itself to the walls. Though he had a keen nose, Scrooge couldn't exactly decipher whether the smell was artificial or of real, fresh linen. For all he knew was sodden, torn material that reeked of centuries of neglect. The Fezziwigs giggled at the sight of Scrooge, whose eyes sparkled and glittered among the glass wall lights and lit candles.

"Well, Scrooge. Wanna go see your room?" To match his height, Nigel bent down slightly. In response to him, Scrooge turned and nodded.

"Right up here, boy!" Still cheerful, he made his way upstairs. Scrooge's footsteps were intensely light and cautious on the stairs. He almost appeared surprised when he leaped onto the first carpeted step and no creak or noise was made, aside from the crush of the soft fibers beneath his cotton socks.

The room he followed Nigel into was a sight like no other. The floors were carpeted, just as the stairs were, with a gentle, white carpet. The walls clean and spotless, painted in beige and adorned with empty picture frames and small filler paintings. The bed was long and regal, the head and backboard made of mahogany teakwood - carved and shaped to pure elegance. The mattress, pillows and duvet that lie on the bedframe and made the bed, well.. a bed were soft, linen sheets. They smelt just as fresh as the entire house did, they felt even better. Smooth and silken, perfect for Scrooge's gentle and supple skin. On the furthest end of the bed sat a small, brown bear with eyes of shiny plastic, a nose of pink clay and curly, velvet fur. The perfect nighttime companion. The plush closely resembled one he vividly remembered Fan owning in her absolute youth. Finally, the room had a television set propped up on the wall opposite his bed and adjacent to his desk, made of the same wood as his bedframe. The television was large and grand, Scrooge's eyes were near to breaking out of their sockets at the sight.

"You like it?" Timidly, Claire peered in and couldn't stop herself from smiling as Scrooge explored the room, but burst straight towards his bed and the teddybear. He picked it up and cradled it gently, swaying it in his grasp. When Claire spoke, he spun vigorously and nodded with just as much vigour. 

"This is.. all for me?" The boy was riddled with disbelief, for this seemed like a dream much too good for a person like him. Suffering was known to him, pleasure and comfort was not.

"Of course, It's all yours. This is your room!" Brightening up the atmosphere, Nigel's cheery voice hopped in and an even wider, grateful smile appeared on Scrooge's face. It was enough to bring tears to Claire's eyes.

Scrooge spun around the room once more, looking fervently at the bear in his hand and sighing.

"Thank.. you" Scrooge's shyness made him seem insincere, but he was being as honest as he had ever been. "It's really nice."

"If you want anything moved about or anything specific up on the walls - or anything, you tell us and we'll get that done for you." Nigel stepped up closer to Scrooge, who this time did not back away fearfully and instead nodded - still smiling.

"Now, you hungry?" He squatted and Scrooge nodded.

"Great, cause the rooms aren't the only nice thing in his house - the food is even better!" Glancing at Claire, Nigel stood up. She giggled gently and made her way downstairs into the kitchen. One of her favourite hobbies was cooking. It was a miracle that one of Nigel's favourite hobbies was eating. Even whilst he was speaking, Scrooge was still spinning around and admiring his new room.

"You can keep looking about if you like, just know that we're downstairs, okay?" Scrooge nodded as Nigel made his way out, following Claire.

The adoption of Scrooge by the Fezziwig's seemed like a blessing come true. He felt safe almost instantly with them, everything about them was the exact opposite of what he remembers. Which was a good thing. However, his enthusiasm died down slightly when Scrooge accidentally found himself eavesdropping on a conversation between Nigel and Claire whilst exploring the second floor bathroom.

"It says here he's got a therapist too. One visit per week." The voice of Nigel slid through the halls and up into Scrooge's ears who sat at the top of the stairs, listening eagerly.

"That's fair enough though, it's better to get him help as soon as possible, right?" Claire, who's voice was a lot more mellow and concerned now, spoke second.

"I guess, it's just a bit much for a child so young though. Especially weekly, that's a bit much too." Sympathy graced Nigel, thankfully. Having grown up with a mother who attended therapy from a young age - he knew what it was like to a certain extent.

"Everything that happened was a bit much.. He's eight and has PTSD from getting abused, that's incredibly rough." She sighed as papers crinkled after her words.

"Medical examination here, he's lined up for a final diagnosis for.. something-" She scoured the lettering on the paper "Oh, Autism and ADHD"

"Final diagnosis?" Nigel traded papers with her, scouting out the information he wanted

"Tested originally age three, final diagnosis to be scheduled by guardian." After reading it out, his gaze rose to Claire.

"Well, we better book that then.." She pursed her lips and checked the time on her phone, 6:40 PM "We can look over this a bit later, right? Don't wanna keep him waiting on that food-"

"Don't worry, I'll deal with it all." Nigel grouped all the papers together and slipped them back into the folder they came in.

"All of it? Theres a lot of legal stuff to go over, you sure?" Claire rose a brow, she had studied law at school - so she knew a good chunk about how these kinds of ordeals worked.

"Yep, I can handle it. Trust me." He nodded and slid the folder into a cabinet of a drawer nearby. After he did so, Claire pulled him in for a hug. Nigel reciprocated the gesture, smiling and taking a deep, hearty breath.

"We're parents now. We did it, Nigel.." She weeped softly, getting emotional.

"Claire.." Nigel began, also getting teary eyed at the hearing of her crying.

"Do you think we'll be good parents..?" An inkling of doubt shone on her, but Nigel shut it out.

"No, We'll be absolutely fantastic parents." He scoffed softly as Claire giggled, finishing off the hug with a tight squeeze and making her way to the kitchen.

Scrooge was paralysed at the top of the stairs. For none of this made sense to him. Clearly, the Fezziwig's knew of his 'predicament'. They seemed like they had good intentions, but an urge to distrust them set itself in Scrooge's mind. He stood up from the step and softly made his way back towards the wooden door, pushing it open and observing the paradise that was his room - and all his doubts and worries melted away.

Chapter Text

Nature's efforts began to show as the fall season came. Similarly to how Earth was shedding and ridding herself of her past, Scrooge was shedding away his old life. It had been about two weeks ever since the Fezziwigs took Scrooge home with them. For the entire time, Scrooge had been blissfully unaware of what day, month or time it was. He counted days simply based on how many times it had been nighttime. He concluded a total of fifteen, so two weeks and one day. When it came to missing the orphanage - he didn't. There wasn't exactly anything to miss. The mattresses and pillows were thin, the clothes he was given were worn and torn hand-me-downs from children who got adopted and left (which now brought the thought - who was wearing his old clothes?) the floors were creaky, the wallpaper peeled and cracked in the corners, and the food was lacklustre. However, with the Fezziwigs - it was the complete opposite. His bed had the softness and pliability of a cloud, his new clothes felt like silk against his sensitive, gentle skin, the floors were polished and shiny (and in rooms that had carpets, like his, the carpet was soft and fluffy). The wallpaper had a perfect, even texture that felt luxurious when Scrooge glided his fingers across it and most importantly, the food was beyond delicious. Though he hadn't quite mustered up the confidence to tell her, Scrooge thought Claire to be an incredible cook. Of course, Nigel contributed too and when he made dinner, it was also delicious. Yet, there was something special about Claire's dishes. Each bite honed its own flavour profile whilst also matching in flavour to every other bite and being cohesive. It was pure culinary magic. So far, Claire had made spaghetti, lasagna, roast chicken, croquettes, pan-seared salmon, beef stew and Scrooge's personal favourite - chicken alfredo. All these dishes were cooked in the first week of his stay, a further indication of how long he had been there. As for the second week, Nigel took a spin at cooking. His dishes were a bit more adventurous but regardless, delicious too.

On one particular night, or what Scrooge presumed to be considering the lack of light out his window, he sat himself against one of his four walls. On his lap was a thin, chemistry themed picture book that Nigel gave him. Upon turning the first page, a loud knock shook Scrooge, diverting his attention away from the book and to the door at his left.

"You in there, buddy?" Nigel's voice was behind the door, Scrooge "Mhm"ed to allow him entry.

Upon opening the door and seeing Scrooge on the floor with the book, Nigel giggled lightly.

"Hey there, little man" He leaned on the wall to the left of Scrooge, slumping down and sitting beside him. "You like it?" Nigel's eyes darted back and forth between Scrooge and the picturebook. Though it took Scrooge a second to understand what he meant.

"Oh! Yeah, it's nice. Thank you." The well mannered boy he was, he thanked Nigel. He thanked him and Claire for absolutely everything, not once forgetting to say thank you after a meal or if anything was given to him. In response to him, Nigel pursed his lips nervously. It wasn't quite the reaction Scrooge was expecting. His smile diminished.

"Listen, Scrooge.. You might not understand what I'm about to say but-" He began, but Scrooge grew anxious immediately.

"You're not taking me back, are you?" His back rose from the wall, the book shutting as he keeled forward.

"No no no.. Never" Nigel panicked too, motioning his hands side to side to reinforce his disagreement with that statement. Yet, Scrooge's brows rose in confusion.

"Then-" Scrooge racked his mind, Nigel filled his thoughts in for him.

"There's this.. group of people who want to help you, Scrooge. Tomorrow we have to go see them."

"Group.. how many?" Picking up on the smaller details of the conversation, Scrooge concerned himself with the amount of people that'd be there.

"Well it's not really a group. There's just this one person who we have to meet and you have to talk to." Nigel had never been good at explaining, but this only proved how bad he actually was.

" I have to talk to them..?" The thought of talking to strangers scared Scrooge enough. It was why he hated school. But what scared him more was not knowing what he'd be talking about to said strangers. He tried his best to understand, but he just couldn't process it right.

Nigel sighed, he couldn't quite say it how he wanted to.

"You'll just have to see tomorrow, okay? 

Reluctantly and anxiously, Scrooge nodded. He put his trust in Nigel, something inkling within him allowed him to do so.

“Alright, rest up then, yeah?” Gently lying his hand on Scrooge’s shoulder reassuringly, Nigel smiled and rose after receiving a smile back from the boy.

Following his exit, Scrooge lifted his back from the wall, switched off his room light and crawled into his bed. Gripping a brown teddy bear tightly and pressing it to his chest, Scrooge tucked himself in and took a deep, soothing breath - preparing for the day ahead of him.

When morning came at her usual steadfast rate, Scrooge awoke in a similar state that he used to when he lived with his biological father - in a state of fear. For a brief moment, he was even transported back to that house. The itchy, scuffy sheets, cold gushes of wind crackling against the broken windows. Even the sensation of hunger plagued him again, when he looked down at himself, his ribs stuck out like the carcass of a rotting animal. He, himself, was closer to rotting than to living. With his arms thin as the bones that hold them up, a heavy tear welled in his left eye at the realisation that he might’ve just dreamt the fantasy of the Fezziwigs and that he’d forever be trapped in this endless loophole of neglect and abuse. There was no escape. Upon rising from the thin mat he called his bed, Scrooge approached the door, gripping the handle and tugging until -

“Scrooge?” A familiar voice called from a distance. Looking up to find the source of it, Scrooge blinked and he was back at the Fezziwigs, with meat on his bones and the luxury of a proper home. There was no thin mattress, no accentuated ribs (well, at least not as heavily accentuated). Though most important of all, he had the luxury of caring parents.

“We have to go to that meeting in an hour, kiddo” Nigel scoffed and entered the room, shutting the door behind him and giggling at the fact Scrooge was still in his pajamas. Pajamas that still fit pretty loose on him, but he was starting to fill them up with muscle and fat that built itself back up after being weakened or even eradicated for several years.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get dressed-” Apologetically, Scrooge quickly turned and began to approach his dresser. Yet the sturdy hand of Fezziwig held him back and seated him down on the edge of the bed. He approached the dresser himself, taking out a fresh pile of clothes for Scrooge and giving him the articles within the pile. A soft, gentle smile on his face as he did so. A smile Scrooge reciprocated.

“No rush, but Claire made pancakes for breakfast..~” In a playful tone, Nigel began to stroll out the room and whistle, watching as Scrooge’s smile widened and a shrill escaped him. He began to dress at the speed of light, eager for breakfast.

Scarfing down the pancakes, Scrooge tried his best to forget about what was minutes ahead of him. Yet, he couldn’t hold it off much longer. The clock ticked menacingly and before he could even realise - it was time. Nigel slid his coat and shoes on for him and all three of them left and lodged themselves into the car. Nigel, Claire and Scrooge. Scrooge in the back, anxiously kicking his feet and the Fezziwigs in the front. Too, feeling nervous for the boy.

About three thirds of the journey, Nigel adjusted his rearview mirror so that he caught Scrooge’s gaze.

“You alright back there, kid?” He met his eyes. Scrooge looked away sheepishly.

“Yeah..” He replied with uncertainty and unease.

“It’ll be all alright, we’ll be there with you the entire time if you need us.” Despite Scrooge having broken eye contact, Nigel tried to reestablish it by continuing to stare, only briefly looking away to gaze at the road and find a parking spot - which he found quite efficiently and quickly.

“We’re here-!” Claire, trying to bring some joy to the moment, joined in with a jovial voice. Yet her facade didn’t seem to fool anyone for Scrooge’s frown only deepened and Nigel’s brows only furrowed further into his face. Taking a deep and thoughtful breath, Scrooge tugged on the car door handle and pushed it open, forcing himself into the fresh air to reduce the nausea he was experiencing from the stress.

“We’ll see how this goes..” Nigel was next to leave, followed by Claire. They walked in a line, Scrooge in the middle, Claire and Nigel on his left and right.

The building they were approaching was clearly new for its walls were clear from vines, moss or dirt - of which surrounded every other building and wall in the area. The concrete around it also looked a lot cleaner and fresher than the concrete down the street and at the parking lot. The freshness and cleanliness of it soothed Scrooge, but the size of the building brought him back into the arms of unease. It towered much above every single surrounding building and stood out like a sore thumb - for it was painted all white, with no variations in colour, shade or tone. The windows were large and thick, about five fitted one side of the four sided tower. Judging by the amount of windows on one vertical line, there were about sixteen floors - not including the ground floor. The reception was what could be seen upon entry. From the inside, the building was even more terrifying to Scrooge. It was, just like the outside, pure white. The only signs of life and colour were the mahogany wood of the floor and furniture and the green from the well tended plants on the shelves. Even the posters and photos on the walls were plain as paper. Scrooge didn’t bother to read any of them, as they may cause him even more stress than he was already in. The final unsettling, uncomfortable factor was the amount of people. In the open waiting room, there already seemed to be at least six people and only ten chairs. Outside the waiting room was loaded too, full of people in long, loose white clothing running up and down the halls with clipboards, papers and pens lodged in their hands and shirt pockets. Trainees. One trainee sat at the reception, nearby a senior member of staff whose name Scrooge never learnt, nor cared to know. However, the trainee receptionist had a small nameplate on her desk that could be read from the angle Scrooge was stood at. Siobhan Hagglesby.

“Alright, Doctor Murray will have you soon - please take a seat in the waiting room.” The elder receptionist croaked, pointing towards the waiting area as she signed in the Fezziwigs for Scrooge’s appointment. The entire twenty minutes they waited seemed to last hours, days, weeks. Scrooge thought that he’d count the amount of times he can tap his feet on the ground before he gets called in, but at around six hundred - he got bored. Well, he was bored until the same trainee from earlier - Doctor Hagglesby, called out his name - Well, what used to be his name.

“Ebenezer Claude?”

At the calling, the Fezziwig’s rose up and Scrooge followed briskly. As they approached the room they were allocated to - room 307, Scrooge’s breathing only sped up. In a last ditch effort for comfort, he reached his small hand over and into Nigel’s. He took it, gently squeezing playfully to soothe his nerves. Eventually, they did reach the room though, this meant hand holding was over. Only now had the realisation dawned upon him - for the first time. He’d have to talk about his feelings to someone who wasn’t interested in adopting him or an orphanage worker. Or a social worker, though Scrooge didn’t quite know the difference between all three professions. All he knew was that he didn’t want to do it.

Room 307 was disgustingly decorated with simply revolting velvet furniture. A couch and an armchair - matching. Both coated in crunchy, scratchy grey velvet and even itchier velvet pillows. The carpet below the seating felt soft and high quality, but a few brown stains, presumably coffee, had already plagued it. The walls of the room were completely abstracted by tall, underfilled bookshelves. A displeasing scene as it meant there was no natural lighting aside from one window in the corner of the room - which didn’t quite shine in the correct direction and instead shone on the shelf adjacent to it. So, Scrooge would have to suffer with the bright, artificial white light instead. When it came to who was in the room and who had let them in - it was a man. Either in his twenties or hardly brushing early thirties, for he had a youthful glow to him. His features were smooth and polished, his hair parted down the side and the suit he had on was immaturely crinkled around the waist and collar. Scrooge had noticed the cuffs of the suit were slightly big on him, at least that gave him something to laugh at in such a solemn, uneasy place.

The man sat on the armchair opposite the couch where Scrooge and the Fezziwigs sat. He introduced himself as Doctor Murray, shaking Nigel and Claire’s hands and flashing a pearly white smile at Scrooge. All he could do was grimace in discomfort. At his side, on a coffee table lie an aged notepad and fountain pen. Murray was soon to lift the two objects and clear his throat. His gaze dead set on Scrooge who cowered between his two parental figures.

“Ebenezer, is it?” Murray’s first question. Though the name Ebenezer made Scrooge uncomfortable, as it was given to him by his father - he nodded.

“So.. As far as I am aware, you were recently taken away from your biological father as he abused you and your sister, Fan.” Though discomforted even further by the very direct statement and lack of introduction, Scrooge nodded again, reluctant to speak.

“What was the condition you found your sister in?” That was the first question that Scrooge couldn’t answer. Not only because he couldn’t answer it silently, but because his blood went cold at the asking of it. Murray seemed to just be getting straight to the point - which should’ve been preferred, but only seemed intrusive.

Again, he found himself back ‘home’. Fan’s limp, lifeless body in his hands. Blood slick on his hands, sheets and clothes. The back of her skull had split, tearing the thin skin that covered it and causing both internal and external bleeding in her brain. Consequently, most of her once silken swirls of blonde hair were matted and soaked in her own blood. Her once vivid, lively green eyes were drained of all life and purpose, her face pale with death, and there was nothing he could’ve done about it. Fan had died without him even noticing-she’d been dead hours before Scrooge noticed. She was gone as a result of his poor work as a big brother. For he should have been there to protect her from the beast that is their father - perhaps she maybe would’ve lived another day or two. They could’ve spent those extra days finding help and freedom. It all went down to him. It was Scrooge’s fault Fan had died, he didn’t fulfill his duty. The duty his mother had entrusted him with. He was a failure and it was much too late to realise that now. Even later to admit it.

Tears began to stream down his face and breathing was quick to become difficult. Scrooge attempted to speak, but only shaky wails and mumbles escaped him. Panicked, Nigel was quick to usher him out the room.

“Kiddo-” He closed the door behind them, but left it slightly ajar. Then, he kneeled down to Scrooge’s level and put his hands on his shoulders reassuringly as the boy continued to wail. Eventually, wordlessly sinking into his arms and continuing his helpless cries.

“Hey.. hey, It’s okay, it’s okay-” Nigel attempted to hush him, softly stroking the back of his head to soothe him. After about a minute of a silent, hiccupy embrace - he gently took the child from his arms.

“Let’s try some breathing exercises, okay?” Suggesting breathing exercises as a way to calm down, Scrooge nodded and followed the steps that Nigel gave him.

“Okay, breathe in..”

He took a deep, bouncy breath. Scrooge’s entire chest shook.

“Hold..”

His cheeks puffed, chest expanded and hands clenched.

“And… breathe out”

A loud, large puff of air escaped him. Cheeks and chest sinking, eyes starting to dry.

“Okay, one more time-” Nigel recited the steps once more, Scrooge followed. By the end, he felt a lot more composed - but the room and questions still awaited him.

“Alright.. How you feelin’ now?” Lying a soft hand on his forearm and rubbing it gently, Nigel pushed out a small smile.

“B-better-” A stutter developed in the moment as his jaw was still jittering from crying.

“You ready to go back in yet or do you want some time out on your own?” As opposed to Murray’s questions, Nigel took Scrooge’s opinion and thoughts into consideration - much less hostile and condescending

Scrooge shook his head reluctantly, already having felt a breach of privacy from Murray and not wanting to experience it again.

“That’s okay, you stay out here as long as you need. Alright?” Nigel stood, ruffling Scrooge’s hair as he nodded. 

“I’ll just be in here, come in when you’re ready.” In preparation for his entrance, Nigel left the door slightly ajar. As soon as he walked more than three paces away, Scrooge peered into the crack and peeled his ears to hear their whispers. He could only hear parts of conversations and had to piece them together to find context.

“..could you fill me in on that?” A voice of a young man, Murray, clearly.

“It’s his father.. absolutely despicable man..” A deeper voice of higher resonance, Nigel, clearly.

“Truly a terrible situation..” A light, female voice with high pitch, Claire, clearly.

“Cannot believe he was able to endure that..”

“he was thin as a stick when we got him, he’s been able to build up weight well but..”

“..years, months, days?”

“Two weeks..” Must’ve been describing how long Scrooge has lived with them.

“..maybe now isn’t a good time for him..”

“perhaps later on? When he is more.. settled.”

“.. we could try in a week.

“I’d suggest enrolling him..”

“Yes.. we’ve actually managed to..”

“He’s starting next week..”

Then, all voices cut out as he put the pieces together. Enrolling . Starting next week. They were sending him to school. For any other kid, this would feel like routine. However, for Scrooge - he began to weep. At school, he’d get bullied relentlessly. He had no friends, nobody who cared to protect him or stand up to anyone who raised their voice, or fists at him. He’d come home with more bruises than he had left with, and this time - not from his father. A panic settled within him, a reminder of the hell he used to live in. How he could never truly escape, not only would the memory, image and voice of Fan forever live in his head and mind - but so would the mental scarring from beatings. Some physical scars would too remain. Whether they be at the hands of his father or at people who he was told he could trust - they betrayed him. He betrayed himself by being so helpless and defenceless. By letting them beat him. By letting Fan die under his not so watchful and attentive gaze. The woman she could’ve been, she’ll never become. Scrooge will continue to age and grow, eventually being the only one to carry the memory of her and take it to the grave.

In that same moment, the door swung open fully. Nigel and Claire leave silently, exchanging a sombre glance as they looked upon Scrooge’s tear soaked face. In the doorway stood the therapist, Dr Murray. He, too, didn’t speak and only nodded at Nigel. He nodded back, but a lot less vigorously.

“Come on Scrooge, we’re going home now” His tone soft and gentle, Nigel extended his hand to Scrooge - yet Scrooge didn’t hold it. After a few seconds and broken eye contact, Nigel took his hand away and instead let Scrooge follow on.

They had reached the car, still not having exchanged any words to one another. Even with the radio playing the entire time, the ride home was possibly the most awkward and silent they had experienced. All three of them. When back home, Scrooge slipped into his room and chose to remain there for the rest of the day. Unmoving and still.

Eventually, the sun had begun to set. Scrooge sat on the end of his windowsill, watching the sun’s light fade away and exchange with the moonlight. The final shreds of sunlight shone directly on his face, yet skipping his eyes. However, when a knock met the door and Scrooge’s head instinctively turned - the movement had altered the sun’s route and slapped him in the corneas, forcing him to look away fully from the window and drape a curtain over the window. At the door stood Nigel. A plate of steamy waffles in his hand, decorated with fruits and swirls of whipped cream. Silently, he walked in and gave Scrooge the plate. Sitting himself on the edge of Scrooge’s bed, just below the window.

“The first time is always the most difficult.” He began, it took Scrooge a good few seconds to realise what he meant. The therapy.

“Is it..?” Scrooge took a bite of one of the waffles, the warmth of it comforted him almost as much as the sunlight, which still shone on his back and lightly slipped through the lacey curtains. Chances are that the waffles were the work of Claire. Her recipes were truly life changing..

“I know it’s.. a lot for you. A lot is going on right now.” Nigel’s tone softened, creating a serious, stern atmosphere. “But It’ll get easier, eventually. We just want you to try your best with it. Help us help you, you know?”

Scrooge nodded slowly, chewing the waffle for an extended period of time.

“He only wants to help, Scrooge. So do we.” Nigel smiled softly whilst looking up at Scrooge, who listened attentively. His legs crossed, the plate of waffles in the dip made by his legs.

“We set you up another appointment for next week instead, just to give you some time to process that.”

Scrooge nodded his head again, swallowing the bite of waffle in his mouth and clearing his throat.

“I’ll try to keep it together” He took another bite, finishing off the first waffle.

As Nigel’s smile widened, an even wider one appeared on Scrooge.

“When you finish those off, take that plate downstairs, alright?” He stood up, making his way out of the room.

“Mhm!” Scrooge murmured from across, chewing on a big chunk of fresh strawberry.

Then, the door shut. He was alone now, but he didn’t quite feel as lonely as before. A soft, fuzzy warmth filled his chest. One of trust, care and love. As he turned his head to face the window and observe the sun once more - it had almost fully set. The sunlight shining on his neck and chest rather than his face, warming his heart. It stuck around a while before plummeting even further down into the horizon and disappearing, marking another day down.

Chapter Text

Not a lot of time had passed from the appointment, two nights. On the third morning after, Scrooge was downstairs at the dinner table with the Fezziwigs. Scrambled eggs for breakfast. Whilst scoffing them down and chugging milk alongside it, Nigel cleared his throat.

“Scrooge..” He spoke solemnly, the mood instantly changed in the room.

Scrooge stopped abruptly, he straightened his back and chewed slowly. His gaze shot to Nigel.

“We.. have to tell you about something.” Nigel looked towards Claire, who swallowed what was in her mouth and chewed awkwardly on her cheeks.

“Mm?” Scrooge mumbled, slowly forking up another bite of egg.

“We signed you up for school. You have school on Monday.” Claire decided to announce the news, watching Scrooge’s jaw drop and expression fall flat.

“I won't go back there.” Bluntly and sharply, Scrooge responded. His mouth dry with anxiety.

“No no, We signed you up to another school. It’s one closer to home. You’re not going back to your old school.” Nigel reached his hand over and held Scrooges. It was hot and sweaty.

Scrooge’s old school was very close to his old ‘home’. Walking distance, in fact. He knew the route like the back of his hand. He could walk it with his eyes closed. He would walk it with his eyes closed, it’d be one of the only ways he could avoid the glares of the other students. At the hearing that he’d now be attending a different school - an iota of hope settled within him. Perhaps it would be different this time, but he couldn’t confirm until the day actually came. On Monday.. He didn’t even know what day it was, he had completely lost track of time.

Scrooge sighed heavily. With all the Fezziwigs had done for him, the least he could do was trust them and trust that they did want the best. He nodded softly, building up the courage to speak.

“When is Monday?” He chose to ask a question that was only partially related.

“It’s in two days, including today. It’s Saturday.” Claire took his other hand, squeezing it softly and patting it with her other.

He breathed again, thinking of what ‘school’ used to mean to him. For a while, he thought it worse than home as bullying was relentless whereas his father only hit him and Fan occasionally when he was drunk or wasn’t asleep. He wondered what it’d be like in this new school, perhaps it’d be the same. That being under the assumption that he’d again have no friends, be bullied and made a loner again. Maybe, with his figure having improved and his skin gaining colour again as opposed to being a dead, faded grey - people wouldn’t be so critical of him. Yet he was sure they’d find something to bully him for. Whether that be his slightly hollow cheeks, short and frail stature or just his personality and lack of confidence. A mix of fear and excitement twirled and twisted within him. He could hardly bear it, but he managed.

“Okay.. I’ll try my best to be good, then.” With a small smile and a glimmer of hope in the eyes of Claire and Nigel - Scrooge tried to dig for any positivity he could find.

“And that is all we want. We just want you to try your best, whatever that looks like.” Nigel smiled a smile so wide that Scrooge couldn’t help but reciprocate and hop out of his chair, giving him a hug. Afterwards, he moved over and keeled into Claire’s arms too.

“Alright buddy, eat up and we’ll go buy you some school stuff, yeah?” Shaking Scrooge’s shoulder playfully, Nigel returned to his food. So did Scrooge, who shuffled and shoveled it all into his mouth, of course, not forgetting to say ‘thank you’ after he was done and also not forgetting to take his plate to the dishwasher. 

For the following two days, Scrooge and Nigel gathered up all that he needed for school - a new backpack, pencils, pens, a rubber, a sharpener, a calculator and a handful of colourful highlighters. Alongside that, they also bought him the school uniform of which consisted of plain, grey trousers, a white button up collared shirt and a navy blue cardigan with the school logo on the left. Nigel also bought him a school fleece, just in case it got cold. Yet, it was August and though it was fall - the warmth persisted and was planned to persist until about September.

Sunday night fell upon them. It was almost time, one more sleep and Scrooge would be going back to school. The time, of which was still unknown to him, must’ve been quite late as there was a lack of sun in his room and he could hear the soft footsteps of Claire pattering around the house. He guessed she was turning off all the lamps and lights that she had placed around the house so she didn’t have to use the ceiling lights. She believed in ‘ambiance’. What proved this further was Nigel coming into his room, a small, grey box looking thing in his hand.

“Heyhey” Nigel came in with a smile, crouching down on the ground nearby Scrooge who was nestled in the sheets at the head of the bed.

“I got you a little something” He turned the gray, squarish box around and clicked a button on the top of it, four blocky numbers lit up on the centre of its black face, separated by a colon. There were also two smaller numbers in the corner, separated by a dash.

“It’s an alarm clock, it can set you alarms so you can wake up in the morning and it also tells the time and date.”

Scrooge watched the number on the far right change, fascinated by it. When living with his father, they didn’t have much technology. Only a scruffy, old television that only played three channels and a crackled flip phone that only his father was allowed to use. Yet this, this was his. His first piece of modern technology that he had to himself. It wasn’t even something all that useful like a phone, it was a clock. It told the time and set alarms. Yet Scrooge was starstruck. He reached his hands out, taking the box from Nigel and watching with his mouth agape, observing it at all angles. Nigel giggled at his fascination, for it was really nothing special - but the boy was shocked.

“Thank you! It’s so cool!” Scrooge couldn’t help but smile and giggle with him, putting the clock down on his lap momentarily and leaning forward to give Nigel a hug by his shoulders. Nigel reciprocated the hug with tears beading in his eyes, a permanent smile smeared itself across his face. The hug lasted about a minute before Scrooge excitedly broke away and observed the clock again. Twirling around in his bed, he found a perfect spot for it - the edge of his windowsill, which lined up with the edge of his bed frame. Hopping up on his knees, he placed the clock down. From his perspective, he could see it perfectly. Now, he knew both the day and time. August 4th, 8:43 PM.

“Pretty cool, yeah?” Nigel looked up at the clock, then at Scrooge’s mesmerised face.

“Mhm!” Scrooge nodded vigorously as Nigel stood up, observed the clock and tapped a few little buttons on the side.

“I set you an alarm for seven AM, alright bud?” He looked towards Scrooge, who nodded again. He had never seen a child so eager about waking up.

“Alright, well get to bed then, School tomorrow kiddo” Nigel rustled Scrooge’s hair, then slowly slid out of his room whilst Scrooge tucked himself in and nestled into bed..

Though the clock was intended to wake Scrooge, he managed to wake himself about twenty minutes before seven. The mixture of exhilaration and disquietude fermented within him, close to bubbling and boiling up to the surface. The feeling uneased him, it curled and twisted his gut, strained and chewed away at his head - yet simultaneously thrilling him and sending all his limbs into a jive. He wondered what it’d be like at this new school, maybe it’d be similar to his old one - hope to god not. Preferably, it’d be a fresh start. A new place where he could become a new person. A new him. He wondered how he’d make friends, or if anyone would want to make friends with him. There were two liable options. He’d either live the rest of his school life out as a desolate loner or find a close friend or two to glue himself too. Until they got sick of him and found new friends, at least.

After prancing and panicking relentlessly, Scrooge’s alarm clock began to buzz frantically. It had hit seven. Gently pressing the soft, gray button on the top, he disabled and sound and took a deep breath before tugging his door handle and trodding downstairs. Warm and fresh, a plate of buttered toast sat on the dinner table. At the toaster stood Claire, her blonde curls pinned up messily and a robe lazily draped over her nightgown.

“Mornin, Scrooge.” She sang, Scrooge smiled back and responded with a “Good Morning!”. His speech was full of joy, but a small hint of anxiety did quiver in between the words. Plopping down on his designated dining table chair, he began to scarf down the toast. Not long after he sat, Nigel entered the kitchen. He was dressed a bit more formally than Claire, meaning basic trousers and a white shirt - but it did the job. After softly embracing and kissing her, he made his way to Scrooge and sat down beside him.

“Slept well, little man?” Softly nudging him, Nigel giggled at Scrooge’s aggressive consumption of the toast.

In response, with a mouthful of buttery bread, Scrooge nodded. Yet, mid nod - he stopped and chewed on his tongue, some fear slipping through and showing itself.

“It’s normal to be anxious, Scrooge. It’s okay.” Comfortingly, Nigel lay one hand on Scrooge’s and squished it tightly. With a gentle smile, Scrooge squished his hand back and smiled as genuinely as he could. He wanted to trust Nigel. He wanted to know there would always be somebody there for him. A father figure.

“You’ll do just fine, and if anybody says anything about you or anything you don’t like - you can tell us.” In the same breath, Claire approached and rested her hands on Nigel’s shoulders. They both gave Scrooge reassuring and hopeful looks. Reciprocating, Scrooge nodded sharply and oathed to do as told. Oathed to make them proud. Proud to call Scrooge their son.

“Remember, It’s not about being the best, it’s about doing your best.” Claire cringed slightly as Nigel said that. It was pretty cheesy, but an eight year old couldn’t care less. All Scrooge could care about right now is finishing his toast and trying his best.

“Alright, finish that breakfast and get on up to put your uniform on. It’s upstairs on your bed.” Nigel tapped Scrooge’s shoulder gently and let go of his hand. Obediently, Scrooge quickly picked up the last bite of toast and shovelled it down before sprinting his way up the stairs and rushing to his room. Indeed, as he was told, there was a neatly folded pile of clothes on his bed. A pair of plain, grey trousers, a white polo shirt and a navy blue jumper. Simplistic and stylish. Nothing too outrageous. Also on the bed but not in the same pile lie a pair of black, cotton socks and a small bag filled with his equipment and anything he’d possibly need (and not need) for school. Turning his head to the clock on the windowsill, Scrooge checked the time. 7:30. Half an hour left until eight. The time they would leave. The time his new school life began. The time he found out whether he’ll be that aforementioned desolate loner or whether he’ll be able to form actual bonds. He wanted to, for the only friendship he has ever known had been with his sister. His sister. Suddenly, memories of Fan began to flood back to him like whiplash. He couldn’t escape the imagery. Her sodden, pale face flashed behind his eyelids, causing tears to splash with every blink. Then, he recalled how easily he’d been able to adjust to life with the Fezziwigs. Only now did he notice - this may be too good to be true. How could he have so easily left behind his old life and pursued this one, without any thought of what he used to be. What he truly is. A disheveled, malnourished worm of a child. Unworthy of any attention, love or care. A husk of what a child should be. Each memory, thought and comment had Scrooge’s heart shrivel and shrink, eating away at the happiness he had built up over the past few weeks. Guilt showed its face too, in the visage of Fan. Calling him a selfish, scruffy scum. He forgot of his past and wiped it from existence, not allowing it to infiltrate the perfect life he thought he finally found. Yet now, he notices this life was far from that daydream. Therapy. He’d have to go back one day and face his problems head on, in a setting labelled as ‘private’, when to him - it was as public as it gets. Unease was now making up the majority of what he was feeling and a sudden, impulsive urge told him to squeal-

A sudden knock broke his chain of thought.

“Scrooge, ready to go?” The voice of Claire bled through the crack at the bottom of the door. Masking his fear and anxiety, he smiled and left the room with that same smile on. A smile that did not waver nor twitch, even staying put whilst he spoke and reverting to its original shape after he was done. Downstairs waited Nigel, swinging his car keys around his finger

“Hop in, kiddo” The second Scrooge’s feet hit the landing, Nigel began to make his way to the front door and, by proxy, the car forth of the house. Not far behind followed Scrooge, who sat himself in the backseat in the middle - primarily so he could see the large, front window and study the road ahead of him. Claire sat herself in passenger, her feet gently tapping to the beat of the song on the radio. When it came to music, Scrooge had not a clue - but the vocals of the singer sounded smooth and refined. The song pleased his ears and, though not to the same level as Claire, he received enjoyment from listening to it.

Distracted by the song, Scrooge hadn’t noticed that Fezziwig had already begun driving. The small silhouette of a large, square building curled around the corner of the window. Was it really that close or was Scrooge just zoned out for a while? Well, he did remember Nigel saying it was walking distance.. Made him wonder why they took the car then..

As they neared the building, Scrooge was convinced they had arrived as the scene was littered with people. Most small, some big. Those that were small usually held the hands of those who were big. It was easy to figure - these were children and their parents. Just how Scrooge was here, the child, with his parents, the Fezziwigs. Thankfully, Nigel had brown hair even though Claire had blonde. So, Scrooge’s light, chestnut coloured hair managed to fit between them well enough. Parking the car messily, Nigel unbuckled his seatbelt and beckoned Scrooge to do the same and follow on. Doing as told, he pushed his door open and hopped out the car, instantly taking Nigel’s hand once his feet hit the asphalt of the parking lot.

Making their way past a large crowd of grumbling parents and sugar-high kids, The Fezziwigs and Scrooge managed to make it to reception efficiently and quickly. Stood at an elevated, wooden desk and screen stood a curly haired receptionist with a deep complexion and large, beady eyes.

“Welcome to Oakfield Academy, how can I help?” She spoke with a soft and refined tone, one similar to Claire’s.

“We’re here with our son, he’s having his first day here” Nigel responded to her, his eyes caught on the lanyard messily draped over her neck with a card that read “Miss Ambrey Russo”.

“Forename?” She turned on an angle, clacking her nails against the thick keys of a keyboard forth of her.

“Ebenezer.” With the same sharpness, Nigel responded.

“Okay.. Surname?” Ambrey scoured the school database, somehow managing to find three Ebenezers..

“Scrooge.” This time, Claire cut herself in and shifted her gaze towards Scrooge, who stared up in shock. Had they changed his name from Ebenezer Claude to Ebenezer Scrooge? It made sense as he had expressed a disdain for the name “Claude”, and adoption usually comes with changing the surname of a child. Typically though, the surname would match that of the parent. However, it didn’t. Scrooge had his surname back. His mother’s name. The name that honours and commemorates her. The name that shames and shuns the man who took it from her and replaced it with his own.

“Yep, got him! He’s in S7, I can lead the way!” A quick search later, Ambrey found Scrooge in the school database and found which classroom he’d be allocated to. Following on, Nigel, Claire and Scrooge all tread the same steps as Miss Russo, following her through the expansive halls, small but filled library, multiple classrooms bustling with rowdy school-children and even a large, yet currently quiet cafeteria. The halls smelt of fresh paint and wood, clearly the place had been redone recently. Scrooge watched in awe as they passed by at least three hallways, four classrooms, two bathrooms and up one small flight of stairs. Soon, they had reached a room with a small, modern label that read “S7”, messily scratched and hardly legible. Underneath hung a colourful, hand-painted wooden sign. In bold, white cursive it read “Mrs Kestler’s Bookworms”. Scrooge had absolutely not a clue what that was supposed to mean, but the sign looked very nice and well put together. It pleased his eyes, especially all that colour. It stood out greatly against the plain, shameful gray door. Through the thin glass pane in the side, he could see a plethora of other children. Those who sat in groups entertained one another, and those who sat alone entertained themselves. Already, without even having entered the classroom - he felt a lot more at ease than he did at his old school. He stared into the glass, fascinated by their jubilation. Eventually, after some muffled talking that Scrooge wasn’t exactly paying attention to, Nigel pulled Scrooge back slightly as Miss Russo knocked on the door and peeked her head in. Now, with this full attention captured, Scrooge heard everything. He heard the chatter of the classroom dim down as Ambrey poked her head in and Mrs Kestler excused herself as she had been asked for a word. Demurely, she stepped out of the class and shut the door slightly behind her, leaving a small gap ajar so she could hear the classroom still. Yet, all she could hear was chatter, so she was soon to shut it fully.

“Mrs Kestler, I’d like to introduce you to Ebenezer. He’s the new one who’ll be joining your class this year” Miss Russo cleared her throat, fixing her hair and posture at the arrival of Mrs Kestler.

“Oh!! Well, I ought to introduce myself!” Kneeling down to match Scrooge’s height, Mrs Kestler smiled and fixed her forest green toned glasses. “Hi, I’m Mrs Kestler. I’ll be your teacher for this year!” Her voice was plump with youth, her hair gently twisted into light waves that cascaded down her shoulders. Mrs Kestler’s eyes were a light, yet captivating blue. The picture of amiability and kindness.

Shyly, Scrooge giggled and waved. Quite pleasantly surprised with the way Mrs Kestler introduced herself.

“He’s a bit shy, but he’ll warm up to you in no time, We’re sure.” Nigel cleared his throat and gently ruffled Scrooge’s hair.

“Well I'm just as sure as you are! He seems like such a little sweetheart!” Mrs Kestler stood up, adjusting her floral dress and pale yellow cardigan. Though the season was fall, she looked like a freshly bloomed spring flower.

As she stood, Nigel let go of Scrooge’s hand and too, knelt down. In a low, secretive voice he whispered in Scrooge’s ear -

“You’ll do great, just do you, kiddo. Remember, if anyone bothers you. Tell us.” With a short nod, Scrooge smiled from ear to ear. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so daunting, he already felt so welcome here that he had no problem with the Fezziwig’s leaving.

“We’ll leave him in your hands then, Mrs!” Ambrey giggled lightly and guided the Fezziwigs out the hall who waved Scrooge away their entire walk out. As soon as they disappeared behind the corner, he turned and smiled at the sight of Mrs Kestler.

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the class, I promise - they are lovely!” She enunciated the “lovely” at the end, watching Scrooge take a slightly anxious breath.

With a short, clear cough - she pulled at the handle and let herself in, Scrooge following behind her.

“One, Two, Three, eyes on me!” She clapped her hands, the chatter in the room stopped and instead, everyone broke out into the phrase “Four, five, six, eyes are fixed.”

“I’d like to introduce someone to you all. This is Ebenezer, he’ll be joining our class and is therefore - your new classmate!” Reaching down to take his little shoulders, Mrs Kestler crouched slightly. Perhaps ruby red platform Mary Janes were not the best choice of shoe for today.

“Can everybody say “Welcome Ebenezer” please?”

The class, once more, in unison said a phrase. This time, the phrase being “Welcome Ebenezer.”. It felt quite awkward and chilling having thirty odd kids all saying his name, but he felt included.

“Now lets see.. Where can we seat you..?” Mrs Kestler’s eyes darted across the room, scouring for an empty seat. There were two available. One near Jordan, a somewhat popular but nerdy kid and one near Jacob, someone who used to have quite a large friend group but in the past year had turned to solitude. However, a hopeful glint sparkled in his eyes. Eyes that were dead set on Scrooge.

“How about you sit near Jacob, right there?” She pointed at him whilst Jacob did a small celebration fist under the desk. Scrooge nodded softly and began to approach the empty seat. The boy he was going to be sat nearby, Jacob - had quite an interesting style. His eyes, a deep yet gleaming brown and his hair twisted in coils that matched his vigour, energetic and alive. Quite the opposite of Scrooge. However, something didn’t quite look right. Scrooge couldn’t put his finger on it - but though his face looked fine and most of his upper body, his arms appeared to be quite thin, only a bit thicker than this which had rounded themselves out substantially over the past few weeks. It was all very strange, but he complied and sat himself down on the blue, plastic chair on Jacob’s left.

With a movement of Mrs Kestler’s hands, the class continued to chatter as she turned to her laptop, hunched over it frustratingly.

Almost instantly, Jacob turned to Scrooge with a bright, excited smile.

“So, Your name is Ebenezer?” He began, Scrooge turned to him with a small frown.

“Yeah-” He tried being enthusiastic, but the name “Ebenezer” just spawned a hole in his heart whenever he heard it.

“You don’t look too happy about that..” The boy’s vigour dreaded out of him suddenly, his voice going seldom. “I can call you something else, if you like?”

“Oh. Well, my parents call me Scrooge. You could call me that, too.” At the saying of that, the boy’s smile grew wide again.

“Scrooge it is then! Is there a reason why they call you that?” Inquisitivity that could be viewed as nosiness, Jacob kept asking questions.

Going silent and flat-faced for a few seconds, Scrooge halted and thought about it for a while, until making up a quick excuse. “Yeah, it’s my surname and I just prefer it.” It did enough justice and sounded believable enough.

“Ohh! How about you call me by my surname too, we’ll be even!”

“What’s yours then?” Captivated by his energy so early in the day, Scrooge mustered a small smile.

“It’s Marley, It sounds cooler than Jacob anyways!” Marley ran a hand through his curls, anxiously, almost.

“Okay, Marley it is then” Scrooge shadowed what Marley said earlier, watching his smile widen and turn into a giggle. The boy seemed perpetually pleased by everything that he heard, whether that be Scrooge’s voice or his own.

Shortly after their introduction, Mrs Kestler managed to get her slideshow working and cleared her throat, starting to properly teach. Throughout the hour they were in there, Marley and Scrooge used a scrap piece of unlined paper to conversate. By the end of the lesson, it was filled with questions that ranged from “What’s your favourite colour?” and “Do you have any siblings?” to “Do you count your steps when you’re walking somewhere?”. Marley’s questions tended to be quite spontaneous and random, whereas Scrooge was just trying to get to know him. He managed enough, though. The two got along fairly well from their first meeting. When a short, soft bell sounded to mark the end of the first period and the beginning of break, Marley tapped Scrooge on the shoulder. He held a small brown sack in his left hand.

“Wanna play marbles outside?” He asked with a wide, silly smile on his face. Scrooge couldn’t help but find his friendliness endearing, so he nodded with a grin and followed him to the yard where, for the entirety of break, flicked marbles back and forth at one another and discussed random, standard ‘get to know’ topics. As for the rest of their lessons and lunch, they followed a similar structure. Notes passing in lesson, giggling between scribbling sentences and whispering letters during games of ‘hangman’. When it came to lunch, they sat in the same place as they did for break - beneath a canopy, not on the bench beneath it but behind it. Again, tossing marbles and asking questions.

“So, you live with your mum and dad, yeah?” Marley flicked a pink marble at him, Scrooge caught it in his palm and positioned it between his thumb and index finger, preparing to flick it back.

“Yeah, do you?” Scrooge looked up briefly at Marley after flicking the marble, his eyes seemed a bit flat and the glint he had in them this morning was gone. Scrooge sat motionless, staring at him. The marble Scrooge had flicked hit the side of his knee, Marley managed to scoop it into his hands and flick it straight at Scrooge without looking or even speaking. Scrooge didn’t speak either, he didn’t know what to say.

“I live with my mum and siblings, but I don’t live with my dad anymore.” Finally, Marley spoke. He spoke in monotone, a stark contrast to the giddy, energetic boy Scrooge met this morning.

Clearing his throat and mumbling “oh”, Scrooge picked up the pink marble and slid it back into the brown bag it came from. He replaced it with a green one, having learnt that to be Marley’s favourite colour earlier today.

“Well, tell me about your siblings then!” Lightening up the mood, he flicked the marble at Marley’s shoe. It bounced against the tip of his converse and bounced against the bumpy ground, rolling around before tumbling towards Marley again. Picking up the marble, he noticed the colour of it. A smile plastered itself across his face and a soft glint lit back up in his eyes, shining even brighter when he looked back at Scrooge.and took a deep breath.

“Well I have-” Marley began, Scrooge sat nestled in a criss-cross and listened attentively. Watching as Marley regained confidence and spoke with his regular vigour and lively tone.

Chapter Text

August 5th, 2013.

10:45 PM.

9°C

I met someone new today. It was something special.

In the morning, I made my regular route to school. Everything was the same as it was the day, week and month before. I placed a foot past the front gate and instantly felt the weight of the side-glares from everybody who set eyes on me. The weight of their whispers always tended to be heavier, though. Their words rang in my ears, as they do everyday. But especially today. I wasn’t exactly sure why. I’m still not sure why. I’m not sure I ever will know, but alas - something good happened today. Something that helped me tune out their shrilling voices, or at least dim them.

The room was a boisterous cluster of children. I sat alone on the far right, as I do everyday. Those who I used to call my friends stared from the left, their glances piercing and judging. I refused to make eye contact with such scum, but I could see them very clearly in my peripheral vision. Kaila’s eyes traced me, from coils to feet. She covered her mouth for about ten seconds, whispering over to Tracy. I do not care for what she says about me, but I am curious. I peak my hearing and listen closely, dodging other conversations and singling out her voice. Her screeching, irritating squeal of a voice. She whispers something inaudible, but then she speaks normally. Well, as normal as Kaila can get.

“I really do wonder what happened to him though, do you not?” Her back turned to me, facing Tyler And Keenan. I’m no longer interested, I’ve heard their theories already and I will not - cannot, entertain such lunacy. I slide my head down and slump lazily on my desk, already having had enough of this. Yet, then the volume in the room suddenly picks up by about an octave, I can no longer enjoy the privilege of a mildly loud classroom. I am instead surrounded by loudmouthed moths. I notice Mrs Kestler has left the room, I can see her crouched in the glass pane of the door. I do not care for whatever she’s doing, all i want is sleep and to get away from this place already.

After about five minutes, she comes back in. A small, frail figure shadowing her. I can’t quite decipher it until she begins to introduce it. A new kid. Great. Another person to glare at me and - then I paused. Giving him a good look. Something about him interested me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it for a few seconds, it didn’t take me long before I knew. This was a fresh start. My fresh start. This decrepit, flakey haired child. He was the key I’ve been scouring for. The lasting effects of my father’s torment shadowed me. Then, and now. His lack of care made me lose what everybody so admired about me. I became this empty husk of a boy. I left everybody I had behind to pursue solitude - he painted me as weak, defenceless and frail. Yet here this boy stood. Somebody who, unless told beforehand, had not an iota of who I am or was. He was here. A new, fresh, clean slate for me to build on. An image culminated before me, the image of what I could do, who I could be if only I won his favour, I’d have a plain canvas to work on, to paint a fresh, new image on. He is my way out. I smile a smile so wide my teeth begin to chatter and my ears ring, but not with pain from gossip, but joy and anticipation. My eyes begin to form teardrops that hung on my lashes and eyelids. Tears that almost hit the ground as Mrs Kestler pointed a pastel-blue nail at me, guiding the boy towards me. This was perfect. Divine intervention, even. I was being given a second chance. A chance I could not fumble. I spoke to him. He spoke to me. We spoke. Of everything. Millions and millions of questions I asked him. His name was Ebenezer, but he preferred to be called by his surname - Scrooge. I didn’t ask. Stupidly enough, I suggested he call me by my surname too - Marley. He found it laughable, but I don’t blame him. Though I must admit, the name ‘Marley’ sounds much better than ‘Jacob.’ I was saying whatever, whenever. My mind was on a one-way street, and at the end of that street was an incandescent light - a light of hope and nuance. It was the only light I wished to see.

That entire day we spent talking. Learning about one another. When we couldn’t talk, we passed notes or played games, giggling in between each round. For his unsettled disposition, I was surprised with how cheerful Scrooge was. He began a bit anxious, but I could see him warming up to me quickly. I hate to admit it, but I found myself enjoying his company too - and we have only known each other for six hours. We were like peas in a pod by the end of the day. With a bunch of doodled-over pages in our bags, we guided one another to our respective parent’s cars. His ride arrived next, so I waved him goodbye and he waved with both hands back. A wide, cheery smile plastered across his face. A smile I couldn’t help but reciprocate. Not long after he left, it was my time to go too. I have not forgotten him or stopped thinking about him for the past seven hours. I may even dream of him if I don’t think of anything else to think of.

Today, I found a way out of my burrow of solitude and loneliness. His name is Scrooge. Well, it’s Ebenezer - but he wants me to call him Scrooge, so I ought to respect his wish.

Chapter Text

Piling himself into the backseat, Scrooge waved Marley goodbye. From both outside the car and also through the window. The entire time that the car was pulling out, Marley and Scrooge were locking eyes and continuously waving. Scrooge only stopped once Marley had fallen out of sight.

“Who's your new friend then, Scrooge?” Nigel chuckled lightly, looking through his rearview mirror at Scrooge’s bright, wide smile.

“He’s called Marley” Scrooge managed to say through his giggles, kicking his feet and jiggling his arms in overwhelming joy.

“Marley, eh? That’s a nice name, what’s he like?” Curiously, Nigel continued to ask questions.

“Well, he’s actually called Jacob. But his surname is Marley - he thinks it sounds cooler so I call him that instead. We got sat together today. He likes green, he has an older sister, he lives with his mum but not his dad, he..”

For the entirety of that car ride and dinner, Scrooge could not stop talking about Marley. Every other word that came out his mouth was the name ‘ Marley’. They had known one another less than a day, less than ten hours even and were already all they thought about. Claire, who had spent the majority of an hour confused as to who this ‘Marley’ was, didn’t find herself asking until Scrooge finally stopped his chatter and made his way back up to his room after dinner. After making sure Scrooge wasn’t listening (of which she tested by listening closely to Scrooge’s bedroom door closing) Claire turned to Nigel.

“So who is this ‘Marley ’?” She watched Nigel’s eyes meet hers.

“His new friend, best friend apparently. Their teacher sat them together and now he’s scheduled to be Scrooge’s best man at his wedding.” Nigel glared back at Claire, who laughed at his joke and made one of her own

“God, with the way he spoke for that entire hour, I wouldn’t be surprised if he told us he was in love with him by next week.” Both of them giggled at the insinuation, picking up their dinner plates and sliding them in the dishwasher. Afterwards, they began making their way to the living room couch and nestling beside one another, turning on a random, trash TV reality show to laugh at for the rest of the night.

I have a friend! I cannot stop that thought from repeating in my head and tying knots in my heart. The very thought of someone caring enough for me to be my friend is a blessing. I have known him for what seems like years, and it has only been a day. I know so much about him already, it’s like we’re brothers. I wish we were brothers. I’d love to have a brother like him. We’d be the best of friends, and the best pair of brothers! All I can think about is what we’re going to do tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and even the week, month or year after! Not even at my old school have I met someone so kind from our very first meeting. He did seem like a bit of a loner at first, but he warmed up so quickly - and so did I. I felt so warm and welcome with him earlier today, just being around him feels like a cozy hug! I doubt he’s thinking of me right now quite as much as I’m thinking of him, but that must be because this is so new to me. At my old school, nobody really spoke to me at all. Everybody avoided me, made space for me to walk ahead but still be behind. I sat on a lonely, single desk. Away from everybody else, at the back of the class where nobody would see me. But here it is totally different. I’m sat with him, someone who actually wants to be around me and be my friend. I don’t sit alone at the back where even the teacher can’t see me. I sit in the middle of the third sector of chairs. Middle. Middle where everybody can see me. Middle where I can hear conversations from both the front and the back. So this time around, I know what people are saying about me - and I have someone to tell if it bothers me too much. Right now though, nothing is bothering me. All I’m bothered about is spending more, and more, and more - and loads more time with Marley. I hope he feels the same.

The flames of the hearth before Scrooge lapped upon one another, creating a pleasant atmosphere within the room, enveloping him in its security and comfort. All appeared well. All seemed tranquil and agreeable. Comfy, homely, inviting. Just as a home ought to be. Yet, forth of him, a gentle weight rested upon Scrooge's shoulder. His arm instinctively curled about it, embracing the weight, which felt to be a frail figure. By the touch of her hair against his forearm, Scrooge could easily discern who the apparition was - none other than his cherished little sister, Fan. She leant affectionately against his chest, nestling closer. The fire before them continued its dance, the flames rising and ebbing in repetitive harmony. Its warmth enveloped their embrace, illuminating the room and conjuring a perfect spot of warmth. Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind burst forth.. seemingly out of nowhere, shaking the fire and almost extinguishing its light, leaving the room in darkness momentarily as it flickered. Until that moment, Scrooge had been oblivious to the fact that his surroundings were not of a salubrious room, but of a profound abyss of darkness. Empty and hallowing. The only illumination was that of the fire, the heat of which had become extinct, yet it continued to blaze, higher than before, even. Abruptly, the warm, cozy body of Fan grew cold. Turning his gaze from the flames, Scrooge looked upon her. She had inexplicably turned pale, her eyes, ears, and nose besmirched with a thick, sap-like liquid. Her eyes, now devoid of the affection, joy, and happiness they once bore, had transformed into soulless, dull husks. A chill coursed through Scrooge as he lifted his hand from behind her head, finding it slick with blood. Her blood. Blood upon his hands. Hands imbued with innocence and unblemished virtue. Hands that would scarcely brush a fly, now bewitched with the chilling blood of an innocent child. Fan had perished in his embrace, twice now.

Scrooge rose from his bed rapidly, a scream escaping him as endless tears slid down his face and his lungs rose at such speeds that they felt as if they were to burst from his ribs any moment now. Within seconds of extinguishing his scream, Nigel and Claire burst into the room, smitten with concern. Forth of them sat Scrooge, curled in the corner of his bed, weeping and hyperventilating into his kneecaps. His back rose and plummeted, his breaths didn’t calm. Under his respiration, he murmured and mumbled incoherently. Nigel was quick to place himself at Scrooge’s side, Claire quick to scoop him up into her arms and try to lull him into serenity. The two exchanged confused, yet affectionate glances. They silently huddled Scrooge together before even daring to speak. Once his weeping had subdued, Nigel cleared his throat and was first to ask.

“Scrooge.. I-.. What happened..?” Nigel curled an arm around Scrooge, but he pulled himself from him and sat forth from the Fezziwigs.

“I.. I don’t k-know.” He stammered, still unsure of what exactly happened. “I just.. had this dream that I was back home and.. F-Fa-..” Scrooge could only get two thirds of her name out before bursting back into tears and plummeting into Nigel’s chest.

Giving each other a look of worry, Nigel and Claire nodded. They knew it was the right time now.

“Scrooge.. Should we try therapy again-?” Claire chose to ask, leaning her head down to be closer to Scrooge. Lifting from Nigel’s chest, Scrooge stared blankly, considering shaking his head, then he considered nodding. However, he didn’t do either. He knew what he needed, and that wasn’t to speak to somebody he doesn’t know. He didn't quite trust it, but it wasn't like he trusted himself either.

Chapter Text

Friday, August 23rd , 2013

As time flew by and the season of Autumn continued to fall, the relationship between Marley and Scrooge only flourished and grew like delicate flowers of Spring. Juxtaposing the jagged, dead leaves that enveloped the damp ground. Changes had not only come to the climate, for changes also came in the behaviour of the two. From simply walking side to side, calling each other by their names and sitting close by to linking arms, nicknames and shuffling their chairs closer together, their sides touching - as if they had been glued by the hip. Purely platonic, of course but quite friendly nevertheless. From the day Scrooge and Marley had met to now, which was almost three weeks ago - Scrooge’s tongue only spoke one word - Marley. Marley, Marley, Marley. For the Fezziwigs, it felt as if they knew more about Marley than their own adopted son. From dawn to dusk, the only conversations they would have with Scrooge would at least somewhat include Marley, who Scrooge began to refer to as “Mar” shortly after meeting. The nickname wasn’t exactly ambiguous, so the Fezziwigs were able to catch on pretty instantly. One morning, during one of Scrooge’s many rants and shpiels about Marley, he managed to stop his endless tirade to ask a question.

Spinning on his favourite, lightly stained but still white leather kitchen stool, Scrooge was in the middle of a rant whilst Nigel was scrubbing dishes after breakfast. Claire had been upstairs showering, washing her hair. The door of the kitchen was ajar, leading a small slither of television audio from the living room to slide inside and act as gentle background noise as Scrooge and Nigel spoke - or more like Scrooge raved on and on about Marley and Nigel nodded, sarcastically rolling his eyes at every mention of Marley.

“So, last week I was walking with Marley and-” Suddenly, mid sentence - Scrooge paused. He stopped his swirling and wriggling on the chair too. This offset Nigel as silence in the presence of Scrooge felt unfamiliar. His hands stopped scrubbing the plate he was cleaning, his head turned.

“And?” Nigel continued slowly scrubbing, but passively.

“Well.. I just thought of something I wanted to ask you-” Scrooge grew shy, wriggling his hands and twisting his fingers together.

“Mm, I wonder what it’ll be.. Go on, boy.” Though acting curious, Nigel already knew what Scrooge was going to ask.

“Could Marley come over for a sleepover on tonight..” He gritted his teeth nervously, now swinging his feet nervously.

“Sure, I don’t see why not, sounds like it would be fun! As long as you aren't too loud late at night..” Before Nigel could even finish his sentence, Scrooge had leaped from his seat and came to hug him - even though he could only merely reach his waist. He gripped onto whatever he could reach as tight as he could and squealed thanks of gratitude over and over again, his feet tapping vigorously on the floor as he hopped up and down in overwhelming joy. Nigel chuckled under his breath at his euphoria and shortly followed epiphany once having caught the time on Nigel’s watch that hung loose on his wrist.

“It's half past!” Scrooge yelped and quickly grabbed his things from the corridor, rushing towards the front door. Sliding on his shoes and hopping out the front door, he called

“Come on!! We’re gonna be late!”

Nigel now too began to rush slightly, also speeding into the corridor and out the front door as fast as possible. Within only a minute or two, he was behind the wheel and Scrooge sat in the passenger, anxiously yet excitedly twiddling his feet and gazing out of the window, dazzled.

School started at 8:45, but most kids were already there and in at around 8:40, so it’d be quite awkward to be late. Alongside this, Scrooge and Marley always agree to meet a bit earlier before the bell sounds to walk around and chat. Even though they’re sat together and have all day to talk and blabber about whatever it is they do. With haste and maybe some speeding, Nigel was able to arrive at the gates at 8:39 sharp. Before the car even stopped, Scrooge had unbuckled his seatbelt and clamped his hand around the car door handle. Once they were stationary, he quickly budged out - screeching “Bye Dad!” right before slamming the door and bursting towards Marley who stood now with a smile rather than a look of impatience and wandering. Shortly after, they hugged, linked arms and walked off through the gate and onto school grounds.

Usually, when Scrooge would accidentally slam the car door - he’d get mildly told off. However, this time Nigel didn’t even take notice of it, for Scrooge had called him “Dad”. Yes, in passing and yes in a rush when he probably wasn’t thinking - but to Nigel this meant an overwhelming amount. It showed him Scrooge finally saw him as a father figure and less of a random guardian or carer. He had, of course, tried his best to be the Father Scrooge needed and deserved. The type of father Nigel himself would’ve wanted. A heartwarming, fuzzy feeling filled Nigel’s chest and with a warm, solaced smile spread across his face - he rushed home to Claire. By the time he had arrived, she had already stepped out the shower and had her hair wrapped up in a butter yellow towel.

“Claire-” Nigel began solemnly, Claire raised a brow

“Hm? What’s up?” She slowly approached, confused.

“I was dropping Scrooge off.. He called me Dad.” He could no longer contain his happiness and neither could Claire, reaching in and giggling with Nigel to give him a hug. They embraced one another warmly, Claire gently transferring some moisture from her damp arms and hair to Nigel’s shoulders and back.

“You’ve done well, He actually sees you as a parent now.” Claire was also in disbelief and shock, yet also fuelled by happiness - having also always wanted to be a mother, even if the child wasn’t hers by birth.

“No, We’ve done well, Claire. He sees us as parents.” Nigel broke off the embrace and slid off his shoes, following Claire into the living room.

She followed his response with a smile, one last hug and a long embrace during the last episode of a trash television show they had found the other night and had been meaning to finish.

The bell tolled for the end of the first hour, all children dispersed into the yard. This included Scrooge and Marley who found themselves a nice, comfortable nook in the corner of the playground, between two benches and a white, mossy canopy. A tall, drooping tree ensconcing the top of said canopy and beginning to take dominion over it, vines and branches wrapping around its supports and weary, aged detailing.

“So what exactly are we going to do?” Scrooge sat with his legs crossed, flicking marbles at Marley and briefly glancing at him. Well, ‘brief’ to him was every five seconds.

“Well, I have some ideas already - but I don’t really know how big your room is or what you have in there.” Marley responded, flicking a blue marble back and also finding himself glancing over at Scrooge much more often than he would’ve figured was ‘normal’.

“I have a TV, quite a lot of pillows.. Some floor space for marbles?” A brow rose on Scrooge’s face.. Contemplating what they’ll actually be doing at the sleepover, not having actually thought about that before now.

Marley’s head rose, a smirk across his face.

“Oh yeah, I know what we’re doing.”

“You do?” Scrooge stopped playing with marbles and looked up at Marley with full attention

“Do you know what I’m thinking?” He also stopped, staring back at Scrooge.

“I think I do..” Scrooge reciprocated his smirk

“Alright, on one.” Marley held up three fingers as they counted down together

“Three..”

“Two..”

“On-”

“PILLOW FORT!” They yelped simultaneously, high fiving directly after and curling into an explosion of laughter and giggles. Interrupting their squeals, the bell tolled and a communal sigh extinguished from them both

“Alright, let’s go. We’ll talk more inside.” Marley began gathering the marbles, Scrooge helped out too, counting the ones in his hand currently - six. He remembered taking out seven from the little clear bag of marbles Marley had on him.

“I think we lost one..” Scrooge pouted, looking underneath the bench for it. However, his flat expression spread back into a smile once he saw a shiny, magenta marble glistening a bit away. Reaching his hand over to grab it, he gently grunted as his finger brushed it - but pushed it away instead.

“Ugh, I’ll just get up” Brushing off small stones and concrete dust from his knees, Scrooge rose and approached the marble, bending over to pick it up - but again missing it as it was instead picked up by a fellow classmate of his - Rebecca.

“Oh, Rebecca. Sorry!” Scrooge was quick to apologise, reaching out his hand slightly to try retrieve the marble from her. Yet she wasn’t budging, rolling it about in her small, powdery palm. Powdery from the sand pit.

“Where's Jacob? You’re usually stuck to him.” Rebecca didn’t even care to say hello, instead she traced her beady brown eyes up and down Scrooge’s thin, fragile figure. Giggling slightly at his face.

“Here.” Marley was quick to stand up and approach Rebecca too, standing slightly in front of Scrooge.

“Awh, boyfriends come to save you, Ebenezer.” She mocked, tossing her caramel curls back. "Ever thought about defending yourself?"

Scrooge went silent, thinking about speaking and actually defending himself - But Marley stepped in before he could open his mouth.

“Real funny Rebecca, please keep your mouth closed next time because your teeth are so wonky they’re throwing gang signs.” Marley rolled his eyes “Give the marble and be quiet”

Rebecca pursed her lips and tutted, dropping the marble into Scrooge’s palm and wiping her hand against her dress after. 

Rolling her eyes and walking off, she mumbled to herself as Scrooge and Marley giggled behind her.

“Marley!” Scrooge continued to laugh at Marley’s insult of Rebecca’s teeth, trying to conceal it with his hand.

“It’s true.. Her front teeth are more divorced than my parents. My dad lives halfway across the world from here.” Sliding his arm under Scrooge’s and cupping it in a link, Marley guided himself and Scrooge inside and into class, laughing and giggling the whole way as Rebecca resentfully watched from her peripheral.

Chapter Text

The clock struck 3:35 and the bell rang to accompany the clock. Noises of giddy, foolish excitement left the mouths of every child in the room. Especially Scrooge and Marley who - despite having spent all day together already, were excited to spend time together in a sleepover setting. Marley had packed stuff in his schoolbag in preparation, but much of what he packed was pajamas, small pillows and snacks.

“Alright, alright! Quietest table goes first!” Mrs Kestler cleared her throat and took control over the overexcited class, who were quick to calm at her remark. Her eyes scoured the room attentively, smirking at every jitter and suppressed giggle. Finally, choosing to set her gaze in the middle of the room and motioning her hands towards the door, allowing the whole class to go at once. Instantaneously, everybody rushed towards the door - pushing and shoving to be out first. However, Scrooge and Marley traced slightly further behind the crowd, not minding being out last. Their arms were linked tightly as they walked through the busy, child crowded halls and through the bustling parking lot with cars careening in and out every other minute. This included Nigel’s shiny and polished silver Mercedes, which turned the corner sharply and parked at an angle not a long distance away from where Scrooge and Marley were stood waiting. 

“Oh, here he is!” Scrooge noticed the car and dragged Marley towards it, opening the car door for him and letting him climb in first, followed by Scrooge.

“Hey kiddo!” Nigel began by greeting Scrooge, who said hello back with a smile and nodded his head towards Marley.

“And hey to you too! Marley, right?” He turned his neck slightly to see Marley better, quickly observing him. Taller than Scrooge slightly, coily chestnut hair, hazel eyes and a toned complexion, not much like Scrooge’s pale, cold skin.

“Mhm, it’s nice to meet you!” Politely, Marley reached out to shake Nigel’s hand. With a smile and a laugh, Nigel reciprocated and shook it vigorously. He could tell from Marley’s light accent that he was of Spanish descent, but he had also been told that by Scrooge - so perhaps he was just subconsciously picking up on the accent.

Turning back around to drive, Nigel advised the boys to clip on their seatbelts. An instruction they quickly replied to by doing as told. Marley observed the car’s interior, quite fascinated by it even though it was a basic, creme interior. Whilst twirling around his head to observe, he caught Scrooge in the corner of his eye. His face flat and still, motionless. An empty husk even.

“Hey” Marley reached over, laying his hand on Scrooge’s forearm. He was quick to flinch and pull his arm away in alarm, before sighing and softly apologising once having noticed Marley’s unsettled expression at his reaction to simply being tapped.

“Sorry I’m just thinking..” Scrooge wriggled with his hands anxiously, though trying to remain calm

“No, come on, what’s wrong?” Marley persisted, now adjusting himself in the seat so he could face Scrooge

“Nothing, it’s just what Rebecca said, about me not being able to defend myself.. You don’t have to always come defend me.” Speaking quieter now, Scrooge tried to dismiss it - slightly bothered by Rebecca’s earlier remarks. Especially one..

“Ever thought of defending yourself?”

He had spent his whole life defending himself. He had spent his whole life defending Fan, he tried his hardest - but miserably failed. Yet even now, when he thought it was all over and that it was time to rest. Time to be protected and not be the protector, Scrooge can’t lie low. Even now, he has to make an effort to protect himself and not let anybody else do so, because that makes him weak .

“Oh come on!” Marley grunted, sighing heavily. Though his reaction was one of anger at Rebecca, to Scrooge it seemed like anger at him. Coincidentally, Fezziwig had just finished parking the car outside the house. He had noticed the sudden shift of atmosphere, turning around in the car to see Marley frustrated and Scrooge blinking quick - holding tears back.

“Woah woah.. What’s going on, boys?”

“Ugh, there's this girl called Rebecca at school and she keeps picking on us for no reason, today she came up so I came up to defend him and she asked why he can’t defend himself, like.. Isn’t that what friends are for?” Marley spoke fast and urgently, annoyed and agitated.

“Oh, Scrooge-” Fezziwig sighed softly, watching Scrooge’s gaze slowly turn to him. His eyes shining like wet pebbles.

“Don’t listen to her, I can bet that she’s only saying that about you and Marley because she wishes she had a friend like him. She wishes somebody could defend her like Marley defends you. She’s only jealous, don’t pay her any attention” Fezziwig reached a hand over and shook Scrooge’s leg reassuringly 

“I know what it’s like, school was rough for me too. But you wanna know how I got through it?” Fezziwig looked him in the eyes. Scrooge listened attentively, shaking his head. “I had a friend. Who always, always no matter what - was there for me.” Fezziwig glanced towards Marley, who smiled widely before turning his attention back to Scrooge.

Scrooge nodded quickly with a wide smile, looking out the window briefly and realising they were home. He hopped out, ushering Marley out too by flapping his hand towards himself.

“You’re a good kid, Marley. Keep doing what you’re doing.” Before Marley and Fezzwig left, he commended him. From only knowing him for a few brief minutes, he could already tell why Scrooge liked Marley so much.

“Thanks!” Marley smiled, pleased by the appreciation. Then, he quickly exited the car and followed Scrooge inside where Claire was waiting, also eager to meet Marley

Scrooge and Marley clambered into the house, instantly met by Claire in the living room

“Hi!” She approached softly as Scrooge ran in to hug her, mumbling some kind of greeting simultaneously.

“This is Marley!” Scrooge let go of her, pointing his arm towards Marley who waved enthusiastically at Claire

“Oo! Well I’ve surely heard a lot about you, Marley! It’s great to finally meet you!” Claire came up, crouching to match Marley’s height and reaching out to shake his little hand.

“I’m Claire, I would ask for your name, but I’ve heard it at least nine hundred times from Scrooge already!” She giggled and Marley laughed back, quite liking Claire.

“Alright, I won’t hold you guys back - pop off upstairs” She got up, brushing off her shoulders and heading back into the living room where Fezziwig sat on the edge of the couch. Following her words, Scrooge and Marley kicked their shoes off and sped up the stairs straight to Scrooge’s room.

“Woah! Your room is so big compared to mine!” Marley observed Scrooge’s room with adoration. Spotless and spacious, with soft, footwarming carpet and a permanent scent of freshly washed linen traversing the room. It felt like safety, security and like a home. Whilst Marley was busy admiring, Scrooge was flicking through a small box nearby his TV stand

“Whatcha looking at?” Marley called over from the other side of the room as he split his bag open and pulled out three large pillows which, miraculously, fit in his school bag.

“Movies, I have a few CDs in this box. Just looking for a good o-” Mid sentence, Scrooge felt a soft and plushy, yet deliberate force press against the back of his head. Once turned around, he saw Marley with a pillow in his hands, giggling uncontrollably.

Slowly, Scrooge stood up and approached his bed, sliding the pillow from off his bed and turning back around with a wide grin, swinging the pillow Marley’s way. Before long, they began a pillow fight. Giggling and chuckling in shifts, laughing out loud and screeching. The fight continued for a maximum of two or three minutes because after running around the room and swinging feathered pillows, their laughter became panting and their swings lost energy, instead becoming gentle fanning of the pillows and frequently missing one another. Eventually, they both stopped, falling back near one another on the carpet and chuckling lightly under their exasperated breathing. 

After a few long seconds, Marley cleared his throat. His tone shifting from its usual, light, casual demeanor to a now more serious, grave one.

“Scrooge-” He began, catching Scrooge’s attention instantly - who was still panting and giggling.

“Yeah?” Scrooge turned his head to him, face to face with Marley on the carpet.

“What happened to your sister..?”

Scrooge’s expression fell cold. Sister. How did Marley know about Fan? Has he ever even told Marley he had a sister? Scrooge rose from the carpet, sitting with his knees in front of him and face dug into them.

“I-I’m sorry, You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-” Marley rose too, sitting beside Scrooge - but with a small gap between them to give him space.

He thought quite deeply, digging his chin further into knees. Now he knew how Marley knew about Fan..

“Do you have any siblings?” Marley leant on his hand in class, sat beside Scrooge on the first day they had met. Mrs Kestler was crouched in front of another classmate who requested help on one of the questions they were doing. Except Scrooge and Marley were much too busy in conversation to care for the work.

“Yeah I have a -.. had.. a sister.” Scrooge grew solemn, looking away sheepishly

“Had?” Marley began to ask, but noticed the tension in Scrooge’s body language and instead shut his mouth.

“Well, what about pets? Do you have any pets?” He was quick to change the subject and Scrooge was quick to readjust and drop the tension..

Now, he had to pick the tension back up.

“I’m sorry for asking I-” Marley began again, but Scrooge interrupted and dug his face out from his knees

“She died. In December.” He was solemn and serious. Marley pursed his lips and was quiet. He had no words to speak nor the courage to get any words out.

“Our dad hit us. A lot. Especially after my mum died when giving birth to my sister, Fan. He thought she killed her.” Scrooge took a deep, shaky breath. Marley still remained silent.

“One night he hit her, she hit her head and.. died in my arms while I was asleep. I didn’t know she was dead until I woke up.” He sniffled, taking another breath.

“I couldn’t save her. I tried.” Sinking back into his knees, Scrooge wept quietly, but briefly. Wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve shortly after.

The tension in the room was palpable. The silence became so loud.

“My dad.. My dad didn’t love me. He doesn’t love me or any of my siblings.” Now, Marley began. Scrooge’s head shifted to him with his mouth agape.

“He acted like he didn’t even know I existed. My parents split, I went with him and he hardly ever knew I was there. He was always either drunk and passed out or.. Or I didn’t know where he was. It was a year until my mum was able to take me back. Haven’t seen him since, apparently he went back to Madrid.” Marley looked up at Scrooge, who slowly crawled closer.

“I’m sorry-” Scrooge did in fact feel sorry for Marley, he had before mentioned not having a stable relationship with his father, but he didn’t know it scaled back this much.

“You’re sorry? Don’t be sorry for me , what happened to you was MILES worse. Your sister died. Your dad is probably in jail! Mine only left, it’s nowhere near as bad.” Marley refused to take his sympathy. His situation seemed much less grave than Scrooge’s

“But your dad forgot you existed ?! At least mine knew I was there!” Scrooge unbuckled his knees, softly arguing with Marley about whose situation was worse.

“Scrooge, I just found out the parents you have downstairs aren’t your parents and that your sister DIED in your arms. That does not compare to my dad just leaving! I’m not letting you feel bad for me. ” Marley shook Scrooge’s shoulders. He slowly began to cry. Instinctively, Marley pulled him in for a tight hug - which Scrooge warmly reciprocated as he wept into Marley’s shoulders. His heart coursed, mainly with anxiousness, as Scrooge’s heartbeat pressed against his chest. His shoulders rose up and down with exasperated tears that ran down his cheeks and dripped down Marley’s shirt and dropped down onto Scrooge’s thighs.

They hugged for a while, a good while. Long enough for Scrooge to raise his head with a sodden face and a new appreciation for and outlook on his friend, best friend, only friend - Marley.

Glancing over at the left side of his head, Scrooge giggled under his breath. Reaching over and pulling out a long, fluffy white feather from Marley's fluffy, messy coils.

Chapter Text

Friday night flew by and Saturday morning arrived, and before Scrooge knew it - it was time for Marley to go back home. Sat at the breakfast table, Scrooge and Marley softly chewed pancakes, chewing for longer when including fruit in their bites. Scrooge’s appetite was quite small, he never ate much but he ate enough to sustain himself and enough to fill himself. However, Marley on the other hand had an appetite incomparable to Scrooge. Whereas Scrooge only ate two pancakes, lightly decorated with fluffy whipped cream and two or three strawberries, Marley ate seven. Seven pancakes, including heaps of fruit and whipped cream. As he ate and ate. Scrooge giggled beneath his breath, having finished at least five minutes ago, staying seated just to see Marley eat.

Claire slipped in from inside the kitchen, lying another hot, fresh pancake on the plate in the middle of the table. She stopped momentarily, looking over at the two and giggling with Scrooge - watching Marley scarf down pancakes like he’s never eaten before.

“You really like pancakes, huh, Marley?” Claire made her way back into the kitchen, Marley “mhm”ing from the other room. Eventually, after seven - he had enough.

“You done yet?” Scrooge asked with a tinge of impatience, but still humorous. 

“Yep! Gotta pack my stuff, Maa will probably come get me soon.” Marley slid off the chair, followed by Scrooge as they clambered upstairs.

Now in Scrooge’s room, Marley shoved any of his scattered belongings into his bag. Scrooge helped, finding and picking up some Captain America and Spiderman action figures and handing them to Marley. After collecting everything that was on the floor, Scrooge grabbed the three pillows Marley brought and handed them to him last. He hesitated taking them from Scrooge’s hands, remembering their moment yesterday amongst the pillows. Eventually, Marley managed to take the pillows and smile warmly at Scrooge, clearly both remembering the moment. However, the exchange was halted by a sharp, snappy knock at the door - Marley recognised the knock pattern of his mother.

“Ugh, Gotta go..” Marley grunted softly, picking up his bag and swinging it across his shoulder. Before going, Marley dived into Scrooge and gave him a long, tight hug. Scrooge reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Marley too

“I’ll see you on Monday!” Marley trotted off downstairs, waving goodbye as he left his room.

As Scrooge heard the front door open and close, then hearing the revving of an engine outside the hallway window - he smiled a smile so wide that his cheeks got sore. Not only from having Marley over for their first sleepover, but also the moment they shared which he just couldn’t quite forget. Marley was truly a friend he could never ask more of, and he felt so much warmer now knowing they had even more in common and that, if he did need somebody to talk to, Marley was that person.

Monday, August 26th 2013

Scrooge rose from his bed, yawning and checking the time on his alarm - 7:00. Around the time he usually wakes, so he was quick to kick his feet off and get himself dressed in his uniform. As he did so, all he could think of was Marley and seeing Marley. What he and Marley would do today, what they’d talk about, what notes they would pass - everything! Ever since Friday, he saw Marley from this completely new lens. Somebody who could actually understand him, somebody who was always there to listen and talk. They were each other's person, and Scrooge could only hope that it’d last forever.

Seeing Marley would be the main highlight of his day, vice versa for Marley - seeing Scrooge, for him, was the main highlight of his week, month and year. Of course, Scrooge valued his time with Marley - but it seemed that Marley valued his time with Scrooge more. This was clearly evident, based on the way Marley acted with him, listened to him - picking up on every detail - and defended him. So much so that he would risk his reputation just to defend Scrooge, and that was exactly what he did.

Coming to school that day, Scrooge and Marley met in their usual spot, just outside the school gate, where they meet, link arms and walk off into class. However, today was slightly different. Whereas most days, their classmates pay them no mind - now, everyone was looking, whispering and laughing beneath covered mouths. The shift was instantly picked up by Scrooge - whose eyes scoured the room in concern and confusion. His gaze switched to Marley, who first also had a look of bewilderment on his face, but then his face relaxed and eyes rolled to the side. Whilst all eyes still remained locked on them, Marley tugged Scrooge’s arm and pulled him towards their seats. Eventually, the attention shifted away from Marley and onto other senseless topics and people. That must’ve included Rebecca, as she was being swarmed by half their class and interviewed like she was on live television. From where they were sat, Marley and Scrooge couldn’t exactly hear what Rebecca was talking about.

“Can you hear anything she’s saying?” Scrooge, with gritted teeth, whispered to Marley.

“I’m trying.. Hush.” Marley peeled his ears and listened attentively, but also couldn’t catch the words of Rebecca amongst all the other relentless chatter and rambunctiousness in the room. Scrooge did as told and kept his mouth sealed, leaning back on his chair and sighing. Suddenly, he heard a short, dramatic cough to his left. Having caught his attention, Scrooge turned his head to check who it was. Surprisingly, it was Bob. Bob Cratchit, Well - Robert, but everybody just called him Bob. A small, ginger boy with a shrill shriek of a voice. Notoriously a quiet outcast who didn’t speak, only listened and took in - but never took that out. Well, until now

“It’s probably about you, Jacob” Bob began, Marley now also turned his head, his attention peaked.

“What does she want with me? I haven’t even done anything to her.” Marley threw his hands up in a shrug, Bob motioned his hand downwards to signify to Marley to calm down.

“I wasn’t there, but apparently you made fun of her or something and she’s gone about telling everybody you and Scrooge are dating, and you’re defending him because he can’t do it himself. At least that's what I got.” He continued, Marley and Scrooge looking at each other with a risen brow - until they both seemed to understand at the exact same time and in unison chimed an “Oh.”

“Wait, how did you hear all of that? I can’t hear anything but Zoe” Marley pointed to the small crowd surrounding Rebecca, Zoe - one of her friends, was notorious for her unique yet disgruntling deep voice.

“I heard earlier, before you two came.” Bringing his chair around the table and sitting between Scrooge and Marley, his eyes shifted between them both.

“Great.. So now she’s got something against us and she’s decided to tell everyone. Nice.” Marley folded his arms

Scrooge sighed, trying to be the optimistic one. “Well, maybe she’ll be over it tomorrow.”

“Rebecca? Over it? No, she’ll be talking about this all week. All month even. Once she asked me out, I told her no and she spoke about me to her friends for an entire two terms.” Marley rolled his eyes and simulated gagging, to which Scrooge laughed at. A warm fuzzy feeling filled his chest whenever Scrooge laughed. Especially when he had made him laugh.

“I guess you’ll be waiting on her to forget then.” Bob shrugged, so did Marley and so did Scrooge. Just as they did, Mrs Kestler made her way into the room from the staff room adjacent with a cup of warm, chamomile tea in her hands. Setting it down on her desk to her left, she clapped her hands, catching everyone’s attention and drawing them away from Rebecca and her problems with Marley, which she seemed to have many of despite her hardly knowing him.

Bob shuffled back to his place, but received a smile from both Scrooge and Marley before he did. A quick, silent “See you later”.

Throughout the course of the entire day, though he hoped they would, the whispers, looks and laughs never stopped. They seemed to be more directed towards Marley, but Scrooge was collateral and ended up falling under the spotlight too. By the end of the day, the encompassing whispers had moved from the topic of Marley to the topic that was Scrooge, who had a lot more to unpack about him.

“I don’t think he eats… he’s so thin” One voice whispered, Scrooge heard, his pen stopped running on the paper. Marley noticed almost instantly, turning his body and attention to Scrooge.

“Don’t listen, I can hear them too.” Marley scoffed and rolled his eyes at them. He considered reaching over to squeeze or hold Scrooge’s hand, but opted against it.

“He’s covered in marks.. Do you think his parents do that?” Another voice responded, this time followed by a sneer. After that, Scrooge dropped his pen and pursed his lips. So did Marley. They both glanced at one another, making an uncomfortable expression. Scrooge was holding back tears.

“Scrooge-” Marley began, but the bell rang and interrupted him. Before long, everybody was hastily shoving things off their desks and standing from their chairs, ready to go in seconds. Scrooge and Marley took their time, as always. Mrs Kestler dismissed everyone and the entire class burst out, pushing one another out the way to be first out. Whereas Scrooge and Marley followed on the tailend of the crowd, walking slowly, linking arms. At least Scrooge was, Marley was absolutely furious.

“I can’t believe they’d say that about you! Ugh, next time I see Rebecca I’m knocking her face into the ground..” Marley grunted, repeating threats and curses against Rebecca, but Scrooge wasn’t replying.

“Scrooge?” Now, speaking softly, Marley turned his head to look at Scrooge - his face blank, gaze pointed directly to the ground and very little attention being paid. Suddenly, Marley stopped and, since their arms were linked, Scrooge stopped with him - now remembering that he was actually there.

“Sorry, I was just think-” Scrooge stuttered and started over, but Marley harshly cut in.

“No, Scrooge, you’re letting it get to you. I can tell you’re off.” Putting himself in front of Scrooge, Marley laid his hands on his frail shoulders and shook them gently as he continued 

“You know they’re wrong. Anything they say about you is wrong. You’re not weak, you’re not defenceless, you don’t need me to defend you but I want to defend you because I’m your friend. I’m not helping you because you can’t help yourself, it’s because I want to, Scrooge. I want to.” Marley looked Scrooge dead in the eyes, watching tears well up and start to fall down his cheeks. Before they could hit the floor, they pulled each other into a warm, long hug, broken by the loud honk of a car behind them. Nigel.

Marley scoffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes as Scrooge giggled and slowly let go

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Marley’s mouth spread into a wide smile as Scrooge nodded, gave him one more quick, short hug and waved him goodbye. His hand was waving side to side even when he got into the car, he continued until Marley was out of sight.

“Getting real close, you two!” Nigel gently jutted Scrooge’s side as he giggled. 

“Hugging a lot longer recently” He continued, Scrooge becoming sheepish and shy.

“He’s just been holding on a bit longer” Scrooge softly dismissed it, slightly embarrassed.

“Awh, you two are like peanut butter and jelly” Nigel curved the steering wheel, catching a glimpse of Scrooge’s red face.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, kid! A friendship like that is like gold, I wish I had a friend like Marley when I was your age.”

“You do?” Scrooge’s attention peaked, he turned his head and listened attentively.

“Yeah, I didn’t have a lot of buddies when I was at school. I only had one, but watching you and Marley just makes me feel grateful. You should feel grateful, you two seem like such good friends and a friendship like that is precious. It’s as good as gold, and better.” Nigel stopped at a red traffic light, glancing over at Scrooge who now watched with wide eyes.

“Really??” He was starstruck, suddenly having gained a completely new perspective.

“Mhm, Don’t risk that. Don’t let yourself lose it. Here’s the thing about gold, aswell, the older and higher quality it is - the more it is worth.” Just as he said that, Nigel pulled the car back and parked it, right in front of home.

In response, Scrooge was silent. He stared forward, deadpan. Thinking. Nigel laughed softly.

“Alright kiddo, you can think inside. C’mon.” He nudged him, which caught Scrooge’s attention. At the nudge, Scrooge grabbed the car door handle and pulled, pushing himself out the car and closing the door behind him. He skipped inside, a sudden, new view on life hoisted upon him.

The next morning, Scrooge woke with no shame. He aimed to make the most out of his and Marley’s friendship after having been told how truly precious it is. Whilst in the car on the way to school, his feet jiggled and jived, waving eagerly to see Marley. He even hopped out the car in a rush, bursting towards Marley and hugging him tightly, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. Startled, Marley laughed softly, not expecting such a warm welcome

“You’re in a good mood today.” Marley slowly pushed Scrooge off him, who had a wide smile plastered on his face and an extended arm, enticing Marley to link - who gladly did.

“Yep!” Not offering an explanation, as he wasn’t asked for one, Scrooge continued to make his merry way in, dragging Marley with him. With the speed of his walk, Scrooge was quick to trip over something and begin to plummet to the ground. He shrieked as he fell, but Marley managed to swoop in and catch him by his hand.

“Got you!” Marley pulled him up, their hands interlocked tightly as they did so. Suddenly, Marley went flat. His eyes were set on Scrooge, unmoving, not even blinking. Just by looking, Scrooge couldn’t tell what had just happened, to him, Marley’s eyes suddenly shifted, now a different kind of look in them. Yet, still, a type of look and feeling he couldn’t decipher.

“Marley..?” Scrooge’s brow rose, stifled by confusion. His hand still being tightly gripped by Marley - until he suddenly snapped out of it and shook his head lightly, growing ferociously red in the same moment.

“God I-.. Sorry-” Marley tried brushing it off, but Scrooge couldn’t keep his composure and laughed out loud at Marley’s sudden crimson face.

“Why are you so red?” He continued laughing, eventually cooling off and grabbing Marley’s arm, curling his own arm around it again. Marley chewed the side of his cheek sheepishly the entire time, reluctant to admit why he had done what he just did.

August 27th, 2013

9:26 PM

11°C

I felt something new today. A spark.

On Friday, me and Scrooge had plans. A sleepover at his. Simple plan, a right of passage for friends. You’re not officially best friends until you’ve had a sleepover, or so I’ve heard from girls and my sisters. Guys dont talk to me, especially about sleepovers. I also have no brothers, at least currently. Ma’s having a baby soon, I'm pretty sure it’s a boy. But I won’t know or care until it's out the womb and actually alive. I’m straying off topic.

We had plans, we were talking about said plans. Criss crossed on concrete, nestled behind metal blue benches. Our usual hideaway. Not so hidden now, as Rebecca managed to find us. Rebecca is somebody I cannot describe in words, for she brings me that much rage. Her face is also something I cannot describe, for I would be quick to regurgitate my words out through vomit as opposed to conversation.

Whatever, she’s repulsive but that’s not the point. She came up, picked up the marble Scrooge had lost and taunted him. Taunted me, for I count as collateral in terms of Scrooge and anything that is said to him. Any insult towards him is an insult towards me, so I tend to throw the next and last punch - unfortunately not literally. She continued to taunt, I stepped in to defend. She bore a face of not only repulsiveness but also disgust, tutting and - reluctantly - handing back the marble. Ever since that moment, hushed whispers and glances were placed, no - hoisted directly upon us. It began with me, as it has for a while now. I heard their claims, debunked them in my own head but never verbally. Zoe thinks me and Scrooge are secretly brothers.. Not quite right, nice try though, Zo. Rebecca just calls me gay, I wish I cared enough to talk about that more, but I physically cannot care any less. Some of the guys think that too, but I honestly care about their opinion less than Rebecca’s - and that’s saying a lot. Volumes.

I didn’t care, but Scrooge did. Very clearly, I could tell he was bothered almost instantly because as the time shifted and the day came to a close - their topic of conversation flipped from me to him. What they said about him was much worse. Claiming his parents abuse him, that he has some kind of eating disorder and that’s why he’s thin, that he doesn’t get fed. God, I could almost feel my blood boil and bubble beneath my skin. It wasn’t even directed towards me, but I could sense the upset within Scrooge. I could not only sense it, but see it. He was looser, quieter and zoned out. I ended up having to shake his shoulders and let him cry into me, for the second time. As I did, I must admit - I felt a small taste of something unfamiliar. Like butterflies, flapping their wings and blowing wind through my chest. The tips and edges of said wings hitting against my stomach, turning it upside down - but just as I began to decipher the feeling, it went away as Scrooge broke the embrace and had to get picked up.

The next day, the shift was drastic. Rather than slowly approaching with a wave and a hug, Scrooge lunged towards me, almost knocking me over with the force of it. I was startled, of course, but pleased in a way. He was clearly happy to see me and in a good mood - which put me in a good mood. We started to walk together, linking arms, of course. Well, before, mid conversation - he suddenly stumbled forward and shrieked. My reflexes are fairly fast, so I managed to switch our arm link to a hand-hold. I caught him and lifted him up before he even hit the floor. Then I froze. I felt myself flatline, except I didn’t ‘flatline’. Much the opposite. This was the first time we held hands, my heart began to slam against my ribs, I could feel warm blood coursing through my veins. Flowing to my hands, warming them. To my face, causing it to grow red and sweat profusely. It was that feeling again, but so much stronger. Potent, forceful, as if pressed on me unwillingly. Again, I couldn’t recognise it. The butterflies came back, more of them. It felt like hundreds. Entire hives, swarming around not only my stomach but my entire body. From my feet to the tip of my coils. I had no idea what I was experiencing, but my thoughts ran rapidly like water in a channelized river. Thousands of litres per minute, and very little time to focus on one thing.

At first, I considered that perhaps I felt some kind of brotherly love towards Scrooge, for we were as close as family, but then I thought about it for as long as I could and realised that I don’t feel this way about any of my sisters or even my unborn brother. Frankly, I believe Valentina is probably sick of me living with them already and wishes I’d go back to Pa’. Ziana and Veda are much too young to even half understand what friends are, so I can’t possibly infer what they think of me - but I doubt they’re happy about me.

So that was outlawed. I thought about tens more possibilities, that I immediately forgot about once I managed to zone back in and realise what I had just done - stared into space and turned an embarrassing shade of red right in front of Scrooge, who sat there laughing. Laughter that, even though directed at me, warmed my heart and brought the feeling back all over again

But I still can’t tell what it was, and I probably won’t know unless I feel it again, and for long enough to think about more reasonable possibilities.

Chapter Text

December 20th, 2019

As days became weeks, weeks became months and months became years. Scrooge and Marley grew up together, without even noticing how much time had passed. Of course, as time flew, their relationship only flourished and grew with them. They even moved up from primary to secondary school together, working hard to even be in the same lessons - but they worked around any differences. On the topic of moving up to secondary school together, some others came with them. Bob Cratchit followed their suite as he had slowly begun to form a friendship with Scrooge and Marley and, unfortunately, so did Rebecca. Not because she formed a friendship with the two, but for a reason that Marley and Scrooge couldn’t even start to think of. She had spent a good majority of her life bullying the two, now she chose to continue wasting her life away doing so and follow them into Secondary. However, she’d calmed down over time, but gathered a new group of cronies to support her teasing of other students. Kayla, Genie and Daya. Kayla was basic. Straight, plain blonde hair and blue eyes. Not much about her aside from being Rebecca’s friend. Genie was a lot more similar to Rebecca in terms of looks. Brown, curly hair and toned skin. She almost looked like Marley, but female. Whenever Scrooge or Bob mentioned that though, Marley didn’t exactly seem happy about it and would instead grunt it off. Genie was his least favourite. Daya though, she was the calmest and most serene. She was soft spoken and smart, friends with most girls in the year. Poised and perfect with her short, refined ginger waves. Well, that is at least how she acted around everybody aside from Rebecca. When near her, she became loud, rowdy and offensive. Most definitely Rebecca’s favourite and her  right hand man. Whenever Rebecca threw an insult, Daya laughed the hardest and threw the next punch. With Rebecca, she was the worst of the four. Without Rebecca, she was a saint.

It was December 20th, the last school day of the year. A Friday, a half day. Perfect for Scrooge and Marley who had now made it a weekly routine for Marley to come and sleep over at Scrooge’s house. Scrooge’s parents, the Fezziwigs, were practically Marley’s parents too. They treated him like a son, and as a fatherless child, Marley much appreciated that.

Scrooge and Marley were sitting in the back of English together, their final lesson of the year. After this, they would be dismissed early and get picked up by Fezziwig and taken home. Their plans were to binge as many of the Saw movies as possible - since Scrooge had earlier that week claimed he hadn’t seen a single one, and Marley was quite a fan. As they waited for the bell to toll, they did what they always do - talk.

“Ugh.. I wish they would just let us go already. It’s so warm in here. I’m like yearning for that wind. I’ve never been so desperate for cold weather.” Marley fanned his face with his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah..” Scrooge replied passively, as if hardly paying attention, distracted by something else.

“What or who are you looking at?” Marley instantly noticed Scrooge’s eyes and attention drifting away from him to somebody further ahead.

Scrooge quickly redirected his attention to Marley, blushing lightly with embarrassment.

“Nothing, nobody” He was quick to dismiss it, but Marley’s expression dropped quickly.

“You’re like an open book, I can literally read you. Who is it?” Turning around to check, Marley’s eyes scoured the room. The only person who looked mildly suspicious was Isabelle, a girl in their year. Blonde, curly haired. Italian. Smart. That’s about all he knew about her. She was sat giggling, softly whispering and gossiping with her friends which consisted of Jaila, Paisley and Lola.

“Isabelle? Seriously?” Marley turned back around, Scrooge looked around sheepishly, softly growing pink in the face.

“I met her in Science, she sits near me and we talk sometimes.” Trying to play it cool, Scrooge cleared his throat and straightened his posture. 

“We’re only sort of friends” He watched attentively as Marley’s lips pursed anxiously. Jealousy brewing within him. Jealousy that was very clearly detected by Scrooge.

“Oh come on, don’t look like that. It’s not like I'm going to replace you. We’re only kind of friends.” Reassuringly, Scrooge shuffled closer to Marley.

“Hmph. Well, not like you can replace me anyways. I’m irreplaceable .” With a slight ego yet sarcasm, Marley smirked, also shuffling closer.

“Of course, of course” Scrooge laughed at the comment, the bell disrupting his laughter and causing the class to rise into pandemonium. A cacophony of screeches, chatter, laughter and excitement.

Their English teacher, Mr Lazenby, cleared his throat bitterly. 

“Off you go, I’ll be seeing you in January to discuss your assessment results and any set movements.” He wafted his hand as the class fleeted out the door, aside from Scrooge and Marley whose arms locked into one another as they made their leisurely way out towards the parking lot.

As they did so, they continued to conversate. Scrooge softly laughing at each of Marley’s sarcastic or witty comments, even growing a light shade of pink at some of his more flirtatious remarks - which over time slowly seemed more and more common. His personality had shifted from energetic and full of life to calm and composed yet sarcastic and flirty. Halfway through the parking lot, a familiar voice got picked up by Scrooge. The voice of Rebecca, followed by the obnoxious giggles of Daya and Kayla. Genie’s laugh was also present, but it was so quiet that it blended in with the other three’s screeches and became inaudible.

Following their giggling came an array of hushed insults. Specifically targeted at Scrooge. At the hearing of them, Scrooge stopped dead in his tracks, took his arm out from under Marley’s and kept walking on. However, Marley was quick to grab him by the forearm and draw his attention from the floor to him.

“Hold on..” Marley let go of Scrooge, he knew what Marley was about to do - but didn’t bother to retaliate and instead nodded, creeping a few steps behind him.

“Oi, Rebecca!” Marley called out from across the parking lot, grabbing her attention instantly.

“Hmm?” She hummed with a smirk, approaching with a strut and her three henchmen following on like baby ducks in their mother’s shadow.

“Defending your boyfriend again are you?” Rebecca giggled, her friends doing the same.

“Real funny that one Rebecca, pulling tricks out the old book. Do you have anything else to tell me other than something along the lines of “defending my boyfriend”?” Marley crossed his arms.

“Aside from the fact you two are fucking disgusting, not much.” Daya responded for Rebecca, giving her a small, secretive, low high five.

“I’d love to hear why you think that, Daya.” Still retaliating, Marley kept his ground.

“You just show too much.. public affection. You can’t just keep that shit private? Nobody wants to see you two touching each other up and holding hands everywhere. It’s gross and jarring” Rebecca took the floor again, making up excuses on the spot.

“You’re gross and jarring. Have you seen your teeth? I’m surprised you get any guys looking like a Saw trap survivor.” As Marley said that, Scrooge giggled behind him, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Well-.. Well..” Genie tried to begin, but instead failed and ended up stuttering and stammering.

“And I'm surprised you get no girls considering how ‘ attractive’ you think you are. You can’t even get guys, faggot.” Rebecca was now moving into more offensive territory, mainly saying things for shock value

“Real proud of that word, aren’t you?” Directly laughing in her face, Marley gently turned and began to walk away. However, Rebecca was finding too much enjoyment in pestering him.

“Fatherless beaner!” She took a try at insulting his ethnicity, which seemed to work as Marley was quick to return, now starting to tick off.

“First things first, not Mexican, I’m from Madrid, but nice try. Second things second, it’s rich calling me fatherless when I doubt your father even loves you or acknowledges you’re there. To you, he’s just a moving piggy bank.”

“I..I-” Rebecca jittered, looking side to side at Genie, Daya And Kayla - who didn’t have anything to say either.

“You done?” Marley pushed his arm back slightly in an L shape, Scrooge was quick to swipe his arm under and link.

“Whatever.. Fucking adopted retard..” Rebecca mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for both Scrooge and Marley to hear. Especially Scrooge, who froze with blank eyes. Marley instantly sensed the tension in Scrooge, slowly letting go of his arm.

“Stay. I mean it.” Marley walked away from Scrooge, approaching Rebecca again - who also stepped forward with a wide grin plastered across her painted face.

“It’s fine if you have a problem with me, but don’t bring him into this.” His tone sharpened, slowly rolling up his white sleeves.

“Why not? Did I hurt your boyfriend’s feewings??” Rebecca pouted, mimicking baby talk. Marley rolled his eyes, stuffed with annoyance and rage already

“Fuck, You really don’t know when to stop.” He ran his hands through his hair with frustration.

“All you’re good for is defending with words , you never do anything that actually has an impact on me. You know that, don’t you Jacob?” Continuing to tease, Rebecca got closer. She was just a slight bit taller than Marley, who hadn’t quite had his growth spurt yet. She looked down on him, reaching over to mess with his hair to annoy him - but instead had her wrist firmly grasped by Marley.

“Don’t even think of touching me” He threw her wrist down as scoffed in disgust.

“Or what ? What are you going to do?” She threw her hand on her hip, giggling behind her other hand.

“I am THIS close to making you bite the curb, for fucks sake be quiet.” Marley motioned his fingers in a pinch, Rebecca threw her head back and laughed.

“Pft! Go on then, Hit me! I dare you to!” Opening her arms and waving at Kayla, Daya and Genie to step back, she stared Marley dead in the eyes. 

Scrooge was quick to come up, lying his hands on Marley’s right shoulder

“Marley.. I don’t think this is a good idea..” He whispered into Marley’s ear, but in response, Marley curled his shoulder back and threw Scrooge off. 

“Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, Marley ” She mocked, calling him by his surname - something he and Scrooge did yet nobody else really cared to comment on and simply continued calling him Jacob - his forename

A small crowd began to gather, for Kayla had ran up to anybody in the immediate area and screamed “FIGHT!!” at the top of her lungs. As people began to gather and chant, Marley rolled up his sleeves tighter, swore in Spanish under his breath and lunged into Rebecca’s open arms, throwing and pinning her down to the ground.

She coughed as her back slammed against the concrete, Marley’s closed fist clobbered into the side of her face, followed by a loud crack and screech. With his legs situated either side of her, Marley continued throwing punches. With each swipe of his fists, Rebecca winced and screamed, thick, crimson blood began to pour from within her nose and down the sides of her face. Every hit came with another gush of blood spilling and splashing around the area, eventually coating Marley’s fists, sleeves and shirt - some even splattering on his face and in his hair. The crowd was full of screaming, wincing teenagers with their phones out. Hands shaking as they captured Rebecca’s nose falling apart. Tears now began to stream alongside the blood and combine, causing the blood to run faster and create two splotches of watery blood on either side of her. Even with her cries for help and begging for Marley to stop, he didn’t. Moving on from punching the sides of her face to treating her to repetitive uppercuts, forcing her head backwards and the nose-blood to now run up her face and into the sides of her head, into her hair. Forcing her to swallow her own blood and tears as she choked and heaved on her heavy breath. Eventually, Fezziwig arrived and pressed on his car-horn firmly, resulting in a loud, long honk. That managed to catch both Marley and Scrooge’s attention. Seeing teachers now approaching with medkits in their arms and hi-vis vests on, Scrooge lept in and pulled the back of Marley’s shirt as hard as he could. Managing to pull him off Rebecca, Scrooge continued dragging Marley towards the car. However, Marley managed to break away momentarily and sprint back over to Rebecca, kneeing her side one more time and causing her to wheeze, splatters of blood escaping her.

“MARLEY!” Scrooge screamed, grabbing him again and pushing him towards the open car door, managing to shove him in and load himself in after. As he was climbing in, Scrooge caught a glimpse of somebody. Somebody familiar. Isabelle, or Belle - as most people called her. She stood huddled near Lola, her eyes wide and ghastly. Staring dead at Scrooge and Marley with her mouth agape. Scrooge chose to ignore it, noticing he has more important things to attend to - that being getting probably grounded and getting away from the scene. Inside the car sat Nigel, his face plagued with shock and disbelief.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” Nigel turned around to them, his eyes widening even more after seeing how much blood Marley was covered in

“DAD YOU CAN YELL AT ME LATER BUT RIGHT NOW YOU NEED TO DRIVE .” Scrooge’s voice was also raised, but not with annoyance or anger but urgency.

Though still furious, Nigel understood the assignment and forced the gearstick forwards on his car, accelerating rapidly and just nary avoiding the arrival of the teachers and medical staff, who were quick to tend to Rebecca’s injuries and drive her away in a wheelchair as SLT staff wafted away at the crowd and forced them away from the scene

After about a minute or two or driving, Nigel pulled over and parked in a random spot. Then he turned to the two boys in the back, who hadn’t fastened their seatbelts and for the entire road so far have been tumbling about. So now, Scrooge had small blotches of Rebecca’s blood on him from being forced onto Marley.

“Now..” Nigel cleared his throat “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, MARLEY ?!”

“I.. I genuinely don’t know.” Marley spoke softly, observing the blood that covered his hands, arms and chest.

“What do you MEAN you don’t know?! You don’t know you just knocked a thirteen year old girl’s nose in and probably broke it?!” Nigel’s brows furrowed in confusion

“Well.. Well she always had something to say about me and Scrooge, in primary and even now. So it was about time she got her face knocked in, she deserved it.” Marley suddenly felt relaxed now that the shock and horror of the moment had passed him.

“ Deserved it? She can’t have possibly been bad enough to have deserved THAT . Do you even know what you did, Marley?!” Still confused and uncertain, Nigel continued to reprimand - but was quick to realise that it wasn’t doing much - for even Scrooge disagreed with him.

“She was, trust me Dad.” Scrooge’s quiet voice peeked out, interrupted by Marley.

“Something just took over me, I just don’t know!” Marley threw up his hands in frustration

“What do you mean ‘something’?! What is ‘something’ ? Do you just have underlying violent urges and tendencies?” Slowly realising this was a lost cause, Nigel’s tone lowered.

“Well my biological Dad is in jail right now for beating his new wife and stepson as far as I’m aware, so maybe violence runs in the family like that?” Marley shrugged as Scrooge turned to him, raising a brow.

“I thought you didn’t talk to your Dad-?” Scrooge tilted his head.

“I only heard from Ma’ a few days ago, I eavesdropped on what she said to my aunt over the phone. I doubt she’d tell me herself.” Marley motioned his hand as he spoke and Scrooge nodded, followed by a quiet “Ah” from him.

Nigel sighed profoundly “Well, it’s not like you’re my son, I can’t ground you for this. But I will be telling your mother.”

“Oh come on Nigel!” Though Marley knew his mother would eventually find out, he would’ve preferred for Nigel not to be the one to tell her.

“Mar, she’d find out through school anyway.. She might already know.” Scrooge sided with Nigel, watching as Marley sunk his head in his hands - but quickly rose once he felt cold blood touch his face.

“Ugh.. Oh well” He shrugged again.

“Oh but I’m not done with you, young man!” Nigel now directed his lecturing to Scrooge, who looked dumbfounded at being blamed.

“I’m sorry? What did you want me to do? Get involved and also get myself in trouble? I was better off staying on the sidelines and keeping myself out of it!” Scrooge defended himself, Marley nodded in agreement, being seen in Nigel’s peripheral. 

Nigel stared into the distance before pressing his thumb, index and middle finger together and putting them against his nose, sighing deeply.

“Well.. as long as you two aren’t hurt..” He rubbed his temples, Scrooge softly whispered to Marley and caused him to giggle.

“Yeah, Rebecca definitely is hurt though.” Marley grinned, Nigel looked at him deadpan before grunting, realising how futile another argument would be and turned around to start the car and drive home.

As the car began to move, Scrooge fastened his seatbelt. Quick to notice Marley couldn’t because his hands were caked in blood and would leave splatters over anything he would touch. So, Scrooge buckled his seatbelt for him and received a smile and laugh from Marley. 

“You’re a bit bloody as well, sorry-” Marley pointed at Scrooge, who looked down to see small splotches and fingerprints of blood on his shirt. Scrooge winced softly, but ended up laughing it off and shrugging.

Chapter Text

Hopping out the car first, Scrooge helped Marley out gently. Making sure he didn’t touch anything and get it bloody. Even if in the process Scrooge got himself bloody, he didn’t care too much. Once having entered, Claire heard the door and made her way into the hall to greet them. Yet the second she saw Marley and Scrooge, her jaw dropped and gaze flattened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Nigel interceded.

“They’re fine, Claire.” He fanned his hand in dismissal, but she remained shocked.

“Fine!? They’re both covered in blood! What the fu- ” She stopped herself, realising Scrooge and Marley were still standing in the hall with them. “What on earth happened..?” She corrected herself and cleared her throat.

“I got in a fight and broke somebody’s nose.” Marley responded to her, smiling innocently.

Claire stared at him with a gaze that was an emulsion of confusion and discomfort. She raised a brow, Marley continued to smile. It uneased her, sending a short chill down her spine.

“So-”

“I’ll explain in a minute, Claire. Go upstairs and wash up, boys.” Nigel turned to Scrooge and Marley, who eagerly galloped up the stairs, dropping off their bags in Scrooge’s room. As Scrooge unpacked snacks and set up pillows, blankets and plushies on the floor for a Marvel Movie marathon, Marley was in the bathroom, scrubbing blood from his hands and face.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Scrooge sat amongst the pillows, waiting patiently for Marley to come back. Soon, fifteen minutes had passed and Scrooge grew impatient. He stood up from his spot, slowly creeping towards the bathroom and peeking his head around the corner where the door was. Forth of the mirror stood Marley, tossling through his curls with hands stained a reddish-pink. The white shirt he was wearing was also stained red and dripping with diluted blood. Scrooge watched from a distance, almost admirably.

He stared. For a good while, too. Gaze shifting from Marley’s hair, to his hands. To his hands, to his chest. To his legs, even. A firm frame, about a head taller than Scrooge - but not quite having a growth spurt having hit yet. Lightly pushing six feet, maybe. Whilst Scrooge stood at a steady five six. Marley’s hands turned away from his head, dipping in the soapy sink and softly brushing his wet hand against his splattered cheeks. Splattered with dried blood, turned spotless. He was spotless. Flawless, he’d call himself. Scrooge laughed at his own thoughts, cowering behind his hand to muffle the laughter.

“I can see you, Scrooge. And hear you.” Marley softly chuckled under his breath, seeing a small wisp of messy brown hair behind the door frame. It quickly appeared and disappeared, followed by a giggly exhale and then the whole head peering out.

“Come help, I can’t see if I have any at the back of my head.” He turned to an angle to face Scrooge slightly more, who skipped forward to him. Poising himself behind Marley, Scrooge creeped up on his toes, but still couldn’t reach as far as he wanted to. Noticing almost instantly. Marley curled his knees out and crouched slightly - a soft scoff and giggle escaping Scrooge.

“Fuck, I don’t know how you’re so tall already.” Scrooge sighed, as if dejected and ashamed.

“I’m just starting my growth spurt, I guess. I’m sure you’ll grow someday too, Scroogey.” Marley teased lightly, receiving a chuckle in response.

“Just starting? You’re already like six foot! I’m hardly five seven..” Scrooge murmured, but Marley heard every word.

“Don’t go too hard on yourself about it. You don’t have to be tall.” An eye roll came from Marley, Scrooge suddenly captivated by his hair.

His fingers tasseled through Marley’s hair, firstly, looking for blood - then it just became admiring. Scrooge twirling his fingers around Marley’s curls, watching them recoil and return to their perfect, coily shape. Well tended to, like the bushes and shrubs in the back garden. Ones that Nigel had suddenly kept near and dear, as if he had been possessed by a gardener for the past month.

“You having fun there?” Marley broke his train of thought, Scrooge shaking his hands away in embarrassment.

“Sorry-! I just really like your curls..” Scrooge slowly shuffled away, but Marley interrupted

“No, keep going if you want, I don’t mind.” He said that, but inside he just wanted more of Scrooge’s touch for longer. It felt so.. He couldn’t describe it. Warm, like comfort. Yet electric, like adrenaline. He wanted more. May have even begged for it if he had to, but Scrooge was willing to keep going. He shuffled back behind Marley and dug his hands back into his hair, fiddling again.

“They’re so beautiful, Marley..” From a slightly squeaky, scratchy voice to a deeper, calmer one - Scrooge lightly complimented Marley. His cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink, thankfully hidden behind his bronze, toned complexion. Thankfully, Scrooge was too infatuated with his hair to notice. Tugging on one lightly, Scrooge’s mouth fell agape as the curl stretched

“Holy shit, your hair is so long!” He stretched the curl down Marley’s shoulder. Transforming from an ear-length whirl to a shoulder length wisp.

“Yeah, shrinkage. Hair gets a lot shorter when it’s curled, pretty cool, eh?” A smile stretched across Marley’s cheeks as Scrooge’s face lit up with curiosity, stretching out and letting go of every other coil. His eyes glinted with bewilderment. Marley simply couldn’t help but laugh and admire his innocence.

“You’re fucking adorable , Scrooge.” Marley huffed out mid laugh. Scrooge suddenly stopped as his face perked with pink. “You’re so.. easily entertained. It’s cute.” Marley added, pleased by the light flush of pink spreading on Scrooge’s cheeks.

“I’m just fascinated by how weird that is.. Your hair just.. stays!” Like a curious child, Scrooge continued rustling through.

“Well, did you manage to get everything out at least?” As in the blood?” Marley turned his head lightly.

“Oh. yeah, you’re good. Sorry-” Scrooge responded and apologised, with a soft tone. Marley’s head slipped out of Scrooge’s hands as he rose, washing his hands once more. Scrooge, again, watching admirably.

After a good minute or two of scrubbing, his hands were clean enough to satisfy him. Marley reached over to dry his hands on the green hand towel, a soft red tint on the corner now. After having done so, he turned back to Scrooge. Staring. Zoned out. Playfully, Marley flicked Scrooge’s nose to zone him back in, instantly catching his attention.

“You can sit here and stare at nothing, or we can go and do that marathon, what say you?” Marley nudged Scrooge’s side before curling his arm over his shoulders and leading him back to his own room, turning off the bathroom light as they left. A soft smile permanently printed on Scrooge’s face for the rest of the time he stayed. From that moment, to nine PM, when his mother came to pick him up.

Something about that day felt a bit different. Scrooge couldn’t quite put his finger on it..

December 25th, 2019 - 8:35 PM

Ah, christmas!! At last. Winter had already claimed the land as her domain, but she never took full reign until Christmas day. Though the once pleasant autumn breeze became a chilling, gripping rush and the ground, once grassy and evergreen, had become blanketed in a thick, white expanse of crumbly snow - Scrooge couldn’t help but admire it in his young years. Christmas had always been his favourite holiday - until Fan. Until then . From that point onwards - Christmas didn’t feel celebratory. It felt more like mourning. Everyone else would laugh, carol and pop champagne as he curled himself up and away in the corner of the room. This was the seventh Christmas without her - but he never really got over it. He probably never would. Carols sounded like hellbound incantations, food tasted bland and plain. Anything red - which there was a lot of during Christmas - would just bring the sight of her cold body back to him. How the life drained from her face like how snow melts off of red noses and cheeks once they step near a crackling fireplace. Fire couldn’t bring her back, it only forced her further away. In a small, pink urn in his bedroom. Sealed shut with messily applied pearlescent wax and a lace ribbon. For a while, it was his secret. Until Scrooge told Marley. Now it was their secret.

Marley had spent Christmas with Scrooge twice. In 2014, after a year of knowing each other and now - 2019. The first had been intensely chaotic and rambunctious as Marley had four siblings. Three younger and one older. Three step-siblings, one fully related. His mother, Avani, and stepdad, Kamal, came too. They happened to be fairly close with Nigel and Claire, the friendship of their sons bringing them together. This year it was the same ordeal. The same siblings, just a bit older now - but no calmer. If anything, they were worse now.

Marley’s father, Santiago, never came. Nor did Scrooge’s, at least their biological ones. Both locked up behind bronze, creaky bars. Most likely never to be seen by their sons again. Nor their daughters. That feeling gave Scrooge’s chest some excess weight. Marley was sharp eyed, noticing his unease hours ago. He watched it build up, peaking now.

“Scrooge- You’re so worked up, man.” He nudged him to get his attention. “Loosen up a little, it’s Christmas!” 

Scrooge responded by curling his feet upwards on the couch, cowering in his knees and mumbling.

“This feels more like a funeral afterparty..” An eye roll came from Scrooge, landing on Marley. He was sitting a bit closer now. Or at least it felt that way.

“Listen..” Marley began, peaking Scrooge’s attention. He shuffled closer.

“I know how hard December and Christmas is for you.. But you gotta live in the moment, Scrooge. You’ll be sitting here moping all night like this.” A warm, lean arm curled itself around Scrooge’s shoulder. He didn’t shift, or even react.

A sigh. A cold, dejected sigh left Scrooge. Not quite as cold as Fan’s blood, which ran freezing cold. Buried in that urn.

“Come on, I haaate seeing you like this.” Marley enhanced his pronunciation of “ hate ”, stretching the ‘a’ for emphasis.

Scrooge glanced up at Marley, who was trying his best to knock some joy into Scrooge. His sister, Valentina, coming up didn’t help. She was the eldest, firstborn. Mama's girl.

“You done botherin’ him, Jacob? He looks fed up with your shit.” She chewed her gum aggressively and flicked through her phone passively. Occasionally glancing up to look at Marley and Scrooge. Well, to her, Marley was Jacob. It was his first name - and she never quite understood why he and Scrooge called each other by their surnames. She didn’t even know Scrooge’s first name, only knowing him as Scrooge.

“Oh fuck off, Val. Leave him alone.” Marley rolled his eyes at her as Val threw her chin back, mockingly offended. 

“Yikes! Someone’s protective over their boyfriend..” She gritted her teeth and sucked through them, making an ‘embarrassing !’ kind of face. Scrooge had never gotten a good look at Valentina - so he looked up to get a glance. In a way, Marley was glad Scrooge was distracted by looking at Valentina instead of him, because he could feel blush creep up his neck as Valentina said “ boyfriend ” in referral to them.

She was very clearly her mother’s daughter. From just swapping his gaze between Valentina and Avani, Scrooge could tell the clear resemblance. Same wavy, dark hair. Textured in the middle and bottom, but practically flat up top. Her attire was edgy and of the time - “trendy”. A torn jean skirt and an off the shoulder, red graphic tee. She had cut the collar of the shirt herself, so the edges were shabby and ragged. A plethora of small, chunky necklaces around her neck, all messy and going in different directions. Around her eyes, she’d smothered dark eyeshadow and lined her waterline. The dark rim made her eyes look narrower, made her look a bit older than nineteen.

“All you do is bitch at me, you can’t just leave us alone? Go help Ma’ take care of the other lot or something.” Marley attempted to dismiss her, but she persisted in what he would call ‘bitching’. His arm was still curled around Scrooge, holding on a bit tighter now.

“Wow.. won’t even call them your siblings or.. by their names? That’s low, Jay.” Valentina responded coldly and Marley could suddenly feel his teeth gritting. He hated getting called “Jay”. Maybe because it rhymes with “Gay”, or because it was just an ugly name. He couldn’t quite decide between the two.

“They aren’t my siblings, they’re my step-siblings.” Something within Marley refused to accept the other three children, kids of his stepfather, as related to him - despite being his mother’s children. Valentina called him cruel, but he just thought it was a simple fact. Which it was - but it remained cruel

“You’re a fucking cunt, you.” She pointed a painted fingernail at him. Scrooge recoiled slightly and shuffled closer to Marley. Reprimanding was common from his father, and it just felt like he was getting yelled at again.

“You’re a bitch too.” Marley responded firmly, Valentina’s eyebrows caved inwards and her eyes narrowed into slits.

“You’re just like fucking Dad . Fuck you, Jacob.” She sneered at him. Marley’s face dropped into a cold, blank stare. Scrooge noticed instantly, because the arm that was around his back stiffened and slowly slid off as Marley stood up.

“Say that again, Val.” He stood forth of Valentina - taller than her despite being four years younger. She stared up at him, his eyes empty and soulless.

“You’re. Just. Like. Him .” She spat back, storming off right after. Marley couldn’t bother running after her, so he just sat back down beside Scrooge.

“God, she hates me..” Marley again enhanced the “hate”, but with even more boldness and bite than before. Scrooge unfurled his knees and cleared his throat.

“What does she mean..?” Scrooge kept his voice in a whisper - as if thoughts and conversations exchanged to Marley needed hiding from the rest of the family.

Marley sideglanced Scrooge, sighing again

“I was Dad’s favourite. He hated her, but loved me. Well, I don't know about that, his love was.. unconventional.”

“Oh.” Scrooge began and then stopped, without the need to finish. He had no words to finish it with. He knew of how Marley’s father treated him, and vice versa. Marley knew about Scrooge’s dad too. He knew Marley's father had never hit him or engaged in physical abuse - but instead heavily neglected Marley. Forgot he existed. Whilst Scrooge's father was much the opposite. Scrooge wished that his father had forgotten about him.

“Yeah..” Now Marley was all curled up.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them, intermingled by the chatter of the adults over wine and the scrambling, little feet of Marley’s step siblings. Playing games like tag and hide and seek whilst waiting for the clock to strike ten. When they’d open their presents and ravage away at the sweets and chocolate included.

The silence was cut by a gentle thud at Marley’s left. Scrooge’s head landing on his shoulder. It startled him at first, but he eased into it quickly and sunk one of his hands into Scrooge’s hair. 

To Scrooge, it was purely platonic. Bonding over mutual hurt. But Marley - he wished it was more. So much more. He made it so obvious, but Scrooge was oh so oblivious. Even the adults noticed..

***

Claire took a sip from her glass of wine, giggling slightly under her breath as she looked ahead at Scrooge and Marley huddling together on the couch and talking.

Nigel picked up on her scoffs and turned to her. “What’s got you all smiley, love?”. He peaked her attention and she turned her gaze away, keeping her voice low.

“Look at them.” She pointed discreetly at them two, Nigel, Kamal and Avani's eyes all followed the direction of her finger, landing on the two. Scrooge's head leant on Marley's shoulder, a light arm wrapped around his upper back.

A collective, whispered “ awh ” came from all four of the adults.

“They’re like two peas in a pod, aren’t they?” Avani spoke clearly, but hushed as to not be heard.

“They’re adorable, but do you think there's.. something between them?” Nigel swirled the wine in his glass, sipping. Claire nudged him as they laughed collectively.

“I can’t say I don’t see it, Nigel.. They are very.. touchy . Not that there is any problem with that at all!” Kamal felt as if he had to clarify. He took a short glance back at them. Scrooge was now looking up at Marley as he spoke, one hand still around him. The other gesturing whilst Marley spoke.

“Kam!” Avani scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure if they were, they would’ve announced it!" 

"But you know how he is.. Jacob is one to keep secrets." A grunt came from Kamal, Avani unfortunately wasn't able to disagree.

"Mm.." She nodded gravely and sipped her drink - non alcoholic wine. She didn't drink, alcohol being generally discouraged in her religion, Hinduism.

"I just think that if something like that was happening, they would tell us. A relationship is a big deal.. especially as children."

“Do you really think they would? I don't know.. Scrooge has become a bit more reserved as of late - he values his privacy a lot more now as a teen. Im sure he would tell us eventually, but I find it hard to believe he would declare it immediately." Claire added, Nigel agreeing with a nod.

“I feel like that just comes with them becoming older. Privacy is integral, especially as they're growing. Valentina did the exact same thing at his age, she became reserved and wanted privacy. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, Claire.” Kamal motioned his hands as he spoke, similarly to Marley. Avani was nodding the entire time Kamal was speaking.

“I guess so. We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess. They’re still pretty young. Who are we to sit here and theorise? Kids change quick, this might just be a bit of a phase. ” Nigel glanced over once more, staring for a while as the others switched topics. Scrooge still leant on Marley’s shoulder, Marley’s arm curled around his waist rather than his back, softly stroking. Their mouths were moving, clearly deep in conversation. Nigel noticed something though, whenever Marley would make Scrooge laugh - he’d grow a slight, gentle shade of peach. Noticeable enough to be picked up on, but too small to be commented on. The hand on the waist also felt more intimate than it should’ve, a hand on the shoulder or back is more friendly. Yet, Marley chose to put his hand on Scrooge’s waist. Something more romantic than just a hug. A cuddle, more like. But there was something in that hug that was simply platonic. Mainly coming from Scrooge's side. He acknowledged their bond was based on more than friendship, mutual hardship. Scrooge’s father was gone, so was Marley’s. Both failed by the man meant to protect them most. Now, protecting each other. Bonding on trauma, on hurt, on pain. Fitting together. When they met - a puzzle piece fell into place.

That thought, though, Nigel kept to himself.

Chapter Text

New Years Eve 2019 - January 2020

Within the blink of an eye, 2019 was over. New years fireworks went off for a good night or two, startling every dog in the immediate area and bringing about hours of complaints from those sick of the noise only minutes after the clock struck 12. Not including the Fezziwigs. They bought an excess amount of fireworks and needed them gone. So, their new decade celebrations lasted longer than anticipated.

Scrooge was never much of a party guy, not only because he was only hardly bridging fifteen but he just never saw the appeal. So, he spent most of his Christmas break and New Years Eve just talking with Marley. Marley also claimed to not be into parties or celebrating in general - so their schedules aligned fairly well.

One hundred and thirty two hours of facetime and voice calls amassed over two weeks. Mainly facetime, as Marley insisted, but Scrooge didn’t mind. Marley often did stupid shit to entertain him, at one point he spent an hour and a half learning how to backflip only to attempt it, fall off his bed and never try it again, complaining of a sore knee and back afterwards. They spent around nine hours a day calling. They only ever hung up to sleep or if one had to go somewhere for an extended period of time, an hour did not qualify - more than two was the standard for ‘extended’. Marley was more than happy waiting for Scrooge - and he always did. They had tried calling overnight once, but Marley ended up falling asleep on his phone and hanging up with his elbow whilst rustling around, of which he did a lot of in his sleep.

Yet, the endless rest couldn’t last forever - school existed and the next term was gravely approaching. Exams, tests and assessments would encompass them soon - but that wasn’t Scrooge’s main worry. Instead, the fight. The one between Rebecca and Marley, but ‘fight’ might be the wrong word, it was more like watching Rebecca being jumped. Rebecca hardly attempted to fight back, she probably couldn’t. Her elbows were sandwiched to the floor by Marley’s knees, her vision clouded by her own blood and frantic tears. The imagery of her nose bridge splitting and squirting with bubbling, red blood was glued to the back of Scrooge’s mind for all of Christmas break. Every time he saw Marley. He saw Rebecca’s dishevelled face all over again. The blood that splattered all over his face and hair, blood that he helped wash out of his hair. There was no doubt people would be talking about it. Fights often happened, people talked a bit, got bored and moved on. Yet in fights like that, the absolute most that would happen would be hair tugging, spitting and screaming. Not broken noses and blood stained concrete. The crowd was huge, this fight had to have stuck people’s tongues for a while, desperate to spit and talk the second those school gates opened up to them again. Unfortunately, Scrooge was right.

January 6th, 2020. 7:35 AM

January sixth. The day they came back. The day before, Scrooge and Marley had spent discussing what they think they’ll be seeing the following day. Both theorised talk of the fight. Marley bet on Rebecca not coming in, Scrooge would have agreed but he had some hope that she’d show her face. Not out of malice, but concern. He’d like to know if she’s alright. A sympathetic boy, paired with the guy who showed no sympathy and only violence. Well, not towards Scrooge at least. He was scarily gentle with him, despite his savage ways.

The front seat in Nigel’s car often felt plush and comfortable, spacious and soft. Spacious in both ways, regarding the seat itself and all the leg room beneath - which came of good use as Scrooge hit a short growth spurt and he rapidly heightened in structure by a few inches. However, today - the seat felt rigid and cold like concrete. His legs felt cramped in the space beneath and curled inwards. The discomfort was quickly picked up on by Nigel, sitting to Scrooge’s left in the driver's seat.

“Son-” Nigel began. He had started calling Scrooge “son” fairly recently. It was only right, with Scrooge calling him ‘Dad’ and being his legal guardian since he was eight. Almost seven years together, now.

“Huh? What?” Scrooge jumped, startled, despite Nigel’s voice being fairly calm and collected.

“Are you.. okay? You look shifty. Do you not have enough leg room?” One of Nigel’s hands slipped off the steering wheel and reached over to Scrooge’s seat, rolling his fingers across a small wheel on the side. The chair shifted back, providing Scrooge with a bit more room.

“No no it’s not that. It’s-” Scrooge began but hesitated, catching his breath and finishing “I’m still thinking about the fight, you know. Last term.”

“Oh. yeah. That fight .” Nigel gulped nervously, slightly. “Do you think Marley is going to get expelled for that?”

“Dad! Don’t say that!! If he does I’ll have like.. no friends other than Bob and Belle!” Playfully hitting Nigel’s forearm, receiving a laugh in return before abrupt, short silence and a gasp.

“Belle? You’re friends with a girl , Scrooge?” A soft chuckle left Nigel as Scrooge grew a pale shade of pink in his cheeks.

“She’s just a friend, Dad. Don’t pull it out of proportion! Marley’s already done that for me..” He ended with a mumble, Nigel still chuckling under his breath.

“No, I'm just a bit.. surprised I guess? You’ve never spoken about being friends with a girl, only guys. Well. Only Marley.” The car careened around a corner before stopping right outside of the school gates.

“God, do you think I'm gay?!” Scrooge’s jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed

“No, don't jump to that. But you should know that if you are, I accept that.” Nigel put his arm on Scrooge’s shoulder as he unbuckled his seatbelt and dragged his bag out of the backseat.

“I’m not, Dad. I’m straight. You’ll have grandkids, don't grind your gears about it.” Sarcastically, Scrooge rolled his eyes and opened the car door.

“If you insist, son..” Nigel said in reply, receiving a short smile from Scrooge and the car door shutting lightly. Through the window, he could see Scrooge go through the gates with Marley instantly hooked to his side, exchanging a short hug before walking off. A sigh escaped his lips, starting the car again and driving off.

Aside from their short meeting before registration, Scrooge and Marley didn’t see each other until period one. Yet Scrooge didn’t have a good feeling about the people who’d be in their period one lesson. Daya, Genie, Kayla. All three of Rebecca’s cronies. Alongside some others who she was familiar with like Lola, Paisley and Jaila. It made it no better that Rebecca was in that class as well - and would eventually come in. However, most concerningly, Isabelle, or just Belle was there too. She was not only in their English class, sat across the classroom from Scrooge, But also in Scrooge’s Science, period two. Right next to him. He’d either have to see her there, or sit next to her and stew in the awkward air. 

Scrooge made his way into registration with his head hung low, feeling the gazes of people without needing to look up. Yet, nobody came up and asked or spoke to him. Well, aside from Robert, or just Bob.

“Scrooge!” His attention peaked, Bob sprinting to him and grabbing Scrooge by the shoulders.

“Oh. Hey Bo-” Scrooge began but was interrupted by Bob’s squeals.

“Come come come sit down! You HAVE to tell me about what happened last term on the last day! I saw THE WHOLE thing but I’m desperate for the context!” His hands pushed on Scrooge’s back and forced him to sit down in his seat, Bob sat opposite him with eager eyes.

“Well er.. She was bothering us and Marley just.. did that. I don’t know, man.” Scrooge replied timidly, Bob sighed and rolled his head back.

“Oh come on! You have to know something! You and Marley know like.. everything about each other, aren’t you dating?!” He leaned back in his seat, Scrooge jumping up from his.

“Oh my god why is everybody saying that!?” Scrooge threw his hands up in frustration, Bob’s lips flattening into a line and eyes widening.

“Yikes.. Didn’t know that was a sensitive subject. Guess you’re not dating, bummer..” A slow nod came from Bob as Scrooge plummeted into the back of his chair and sighed.

“Sorry.. My Dad just said that as well today. We’re just close, We’ve known each other for seven years.” More people began to walk into registration, Bob catching sight of other friends and slowly getting up.

“Yeah no, my bad man.” Bob patted the back of Scrooge’s shoulder reassuringly, then grinned maliciously. “I’ll just guess you’re dating Belle then.” He strutted off laughing heartily as Scrooge’s face grew a hot shade of red.

However bad Scrooge wanted to reprimand and disprove Bob, he lacked the energy to. Also, he’d hate to admit it to anybody, but especially Marley.. Scrooge did feel something towards Belle. She was so kind and compassionate, forgiving and gentle. Not only on the inside, but the outside too. The way her light, golden curls swooped and cascaded down her shoulder, tickling her elbows. The way her eyelashes fluttered in the wind, droplets of sunlight caught in them and reflected onto her fair, perfectly pink tinted cheeks. Her beauty was undefined. Somehow, she always fell under the radar. Under Scrooge’s radar. Until now.

Then the bell rang and shook him out of his daze. Period one. English. Daya. Genie. Kayla. Rebecca. Belle. Marley. This couldn’t end well. His feet dragged to that room as other feet around him were scuttering to lesson to not be late. But Scrooge would rather be late, for delaying this lesson and all the interactions within it was his top priority as of late.

Eventually though, he made it to the door and pulled his feet in. All eyes stuck to him and stayed for a while, only straying to check the door for Marley or Rebecca. The only other two people left to arrive. Nobody was even scouting out for the teacher, who was also late. Well, by the student’s standards - being late doesn’t exist unless a teacher is in the room. So, Marley and Rebecca were technically not late.

Whispers began to encompass Scrooge immediately. The very second the tip of his shoe entered the room, conversations hushed into whispers.

“Did you see the fight? Marley knocked Reb’s nose in.. her entire nose bridge shattered.” Daya began, her eyes frantically searching the room to check if Scrooge was watching.

“Pft, what fight? I doubt it.. He’s like a stick , I doubt he can throw a punch for shit..” Genie, who didn’t see the fight, rolled her eyes. Not noticing Marley slowly walking in.

“No, Gen. I got a video, Leon sent me it - It’s true. Reb’s been in hospital all break.. She ruined our snapstreak!” Kayla lied a hand on Genie’s arm, her eyes widening as Marley walked past their desk, stopped at the edge and leaned over the three.

“She’s got a point, Genie..” Marley nodded and pouted sarcastically. The girls went silent with their eyes scattering between themselves. Until a stuffy breath stifled everybody.

Long, dark brown hair. Encompassed by split ends, swung into a messy, scruffy braid with sharp strands sticking out at every loop. Her bangs tucked away behind her ears. A thick, yellow toned plaster on a flat face. Rebecca’s face. Her eyes darted towards Marley with a death stare, only to receive a friendly smile back. Everybody else’s jaws stood agape as she passed by, Marley getting in her way and knocking shoulders with her.

“Whoops! Hope you’re not fragile..” Marley giggled to himself as Rebecca turned, replying with a slightly squeaky yet still voice.

“Fuck off, before I knock that shit-eating grin off your face, Jacob.” She threatened, the class “ Ooo ”ing collectively.

“Are you challenging me? Last time you did that, things didn’t end well.. For you , at least.” He replied with a disgusted snarl, sarcastic - but still hurtful.

“Fuck. Off.” She forced herself down in her seat and covered her nose with her hand. Marley shrugged it off and took his place at Scrooge’s side. In the same second, the teacher - Mrs Lancasire, burst through the door with a heavy stack of books over her shoulder

“So sorry I’m late!!” Lancasire hurried in, nobody responding. All either still glued on Marley, Rebecca or just too tired to care.

“Okay.. bit tiring, first day back, isn’t it?” She smiled awkwardly. Still no response. At that point, she’d given up.

***

About ten minutes into the lesson, Lancasire set the class off on a discussion task. From the sudden silence, everybody erupted into discussion of the fight. Scrooge sat cowering in the corner, sort of like Rebecca was across the class from him. She was being bombarded by questions and the only way she could answer was in a squeaky remnant of her original voice. From eavesdropping, Marley gathered the following: Rebecca’s nose had to be restructured like with plastic surgery, her nose bridge was shattered and she hasn’t smelt or breathed through her nose since the day. Whereas Scrooge wasn’t bothered listening, instead communicating with Belle across the classroom using whiteboards.

“Did you see it?” Scrooge scribbled down and showed his.

She didn’t write anything at first, only nodding, then grabbing her pen and rapidly scribbling in green cursive

“It was gnarly, he knocked her nose clean off. You were there too, right?” She showed her board. Scrooge nodded and put his whiteboard down for a minute. Belle wiped hers clean and began writing again

“Deserved.” She wrote, showing it with a giggle. Scrooge suppressed a laugh in return, writing “So true” on his board next. That was before his pen began to run dry and write down streaks rather than words - so it looked like “sO tr e”.

Eventually, Marley got bored of listening in and turned to Scrooge, instantly diverting his attention away from Belle.

“Scrooge.” He began, solemnly. 

“Mhm?” Scrooge looked him in the eyes, slight uncertainty enveloping him.

“If anyone is ever bothering you, just let me know. ‘kay?” A hand slipped across the desk and nestled itself on Scrooge’s forearm as Scrooge nodded. A light layer of pink embarrassment flushing over his cheeks, noticing the stares of some people. Marley didn’t care, Scrooge clearly did.

They were now speaking in hushed whispers.

“You sure you will?” Marley had to make sure, but Scrooge seemed a bit confused at that.

“Of course. I tell you literally everything, You know that-” Scrooge reeled his head slightly back and turned it to its side, raising a brow “Why would I keep secrets from you?” 

“Literally everything”.. Is she not part of that? Why would you keep secrets? Maybe so I wouldn’t get in the way of you and her . You know exactly how I am.

Marley thought to himself - his thoughts acting as if they were communicating with Scrooge. He considered asking about Belle - but instead forced himself to muster a nod, let go of Scrooge’s arm and returned into his seat. Scrooge could no longer see Belle’s face in the corner of his eye, just blonde curls pinned up in a deep, navy blue clip. What could be seen though was how Scrooge’s eyes were glued on Belle - even from the back. Marley could see that all too well, having to resist pursing his lips in fury every time he glanced over and saw Scrooge’s gaze fixed on her.

The toll of the bell for break was freeing in the way it meant Scrooge and Marley could now talk without Belle in the immediate area - but it also meant period two was coming up. Science. A lesson they didn’t share, but one thing Marley knew of Scrooge’s class was where and who he sat next to.

Towards the back, on the right seat. Against the wall, of which he often leant on. Left of him, a curly haired blondie. Smart and helpful, particularly with biology. Friends with Jaila, Lola and Paisley. Italian, visits her family every year in Florence. That’s all he knew about her. Well, one more thing now. She had her eye on Scrooge, and he had her eyes on her.

Isabelle Savelli.

Chapter Text

“Have you been talked to by a teacher or something yet?” Scrooge took a sip of his cold water, adjusting slightly on the bench him and Marley sat on every break and lunch.

“No, but they came to my house the day after it happened to talk to me about it.” Marley shrugged, as if this was casual - but Scrooge didn’t know of this

“They came to your house? You didn’t tell me about this!” His mouth fell slightly agape. “What did they say?”

“They weren’t mad really, they just sounded concerned if anything.. Told me I need help for my ‘violent tendencies’ if they continue. I’m not going to be surprised if they do suspend me or something.” Marley motioned his fingers in speech bubbles when saying ‘violent tendencies’, as if doubting them. “They talked to Ma’ after, she probably told them to be soft on me.”

“I mean.. Mar, you are kind of violent-” Scrooge began anxiously.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Marley threw his hands up in frustration, Scrooge was quick to come a bit closer and push his hands back down.

“No, no. I’m just saying like.. What made that your first thought? Why did you jump to that?” His arms were kept down by Scrooge’s hands, their crossed knees lightly touching.

“I-” Marley began, stuttering, but clearing his throat to cover it.

“I don’t know. Maybe violence runs in my blood or some shit, I told you about Dad.” Marley’s eyes scuttered back and forth between Scrooge’s left and right eye. He was met with a soft sigh from Scrooge.

“I was only doing it for you-” He mumbled under his breath, Scrooge clearly heard. A light smile spread across his face and a shy laugh left his lips.

“Marley- You don’t need to protect me or anything anymore. I appreciate it, but I don’t wanna be getting you in trouble..” Scrooge began to get up from the bench and swung his bag over his shoulder, Marley doing the same.

“ You’re not getting me into shit, I get myself into it. It’s my fault, I get it. Don’t feel sorry for me.” Marley shrugged it off, Scrooge sighing quietly.

“Just don’t do anything too rash, I don’t know what I’d do if you got suspended or expelled.” They began to walk off together towards the science block as the bell rang.

“You’d be fine, you have Bob.. and Isabelle .” Marley snarled at that last bit, Scrooge noticing the unease in his tone.

“Marley..” Scrooge warned. “You know that we’re only friends, you have nothing to worry about.” He never lied to Marley, but he had to keep a few feelings shielded to prevent the jealousy overriding him.

“I never said anything like that, I know you’re only talking.” Marley bit his tongue back after saying that, as if holding himself back from saying more. 

“You don’t sound convinced..” Now the atmosphere grew thick with how awkward this conversation felt. Their conversations usually flowed smoothly, this one felt like running over train tracks.

“I just don’t like her, we kind of know each other” An eye roll came from Marley, Scrooge’s brow rose.

“Kind of know each other? You guys are friends or something?” 

“More like acquaintances .. I don’t wanna talk about it.” He wafted a hand dismissively, but now Scrooge was hooked.

“No, now you have to tell me. I’m so curious now-” Scrooge nudged Marley, who giggled under his breath and nudged him back.

“I’ll think about whether you deserve to know that.” Marley responded playfully and smiled at the sight of Scrooge laughing.

“Oh come on!” Scrooge scoffed before realising they had made it to the Science Block.

“Ah.” His smile dropped. 

“Well, I’ll see you at lunch then.” Scrooge nudged Marley one more time, hugging before breaking off. They always hugged before lessons, but this time - Marley held on a little bit tighter. Just in case she was watching.

Scrooge’s period two lesson was, thankfully, full of mostly nerdy dweebs, cocky smart kids or short loners who typically kept to themselves and kept their mouth shut - but regardless had the drama or ‘tea’ on everybody. All seeing, but not speaking. Personally, he’d associate himself as one of the inbetween. Slightly nerdy, not exactly cocky but smart, sure. Not a loner, but mainly just kept to himself and Marley. Whereas Belle and her two friends in the class - Talia and Ria, had their own category. A category that can be summed up in one word. Blonde. All three of them were natural blondes with crystal clean pale vanilla roots, pale brows and lashes and fair, smooth skin. Whilst the rest of the class mainly consisted of brunettes and dark heads, with some dyed blonde hair - but with brown roots invading. Obviously, as a brown haired boy - Scrooge fit in with the rest of the class, but stood out against them. Didn’t help that he was sitting right next to one. Belle.

Everybody took their seats upon entrance, the teacher marking them off on the register as he watched each child enter. He adjusted his glasses when an unfamiliar face made its way into the room before quickly hurrying out. A younger year, perhaps, getting mistaken between rooms.

Belle was punctual and perfect, so she had been one of the first in. Sat up straight and tall on her chair, whilst Talia and Rita half-sat on the desk to her right. Half-sat meaning one leg on the desk, the other meeting or swinging against the floor. Thankfully, Scrooge was to her left.

He came in and placed his stuff down, slumping in his chair lazily. Anxiety pumping through his blood, fearing that through the small door window, he’ll soon be able to see Marley get pulled out of his lesson across the hall and dragged home. Suspended for however long they wish. To him, though, it’d probably be a treat to get sent home. The stares from Rita, Talia and Belle didn’t exactly ease his nerves.

He met their gazes, each of them persisting their stares even after locking eyes.

“So.. Ebenezer..” Rita began, clearing her throat. A soft quiver shuddered through Scrooge at the hearing of his first name - but that was something he had to get used to by now. Yet even Belle called him ‘Scrooge’. Most people knew of his predicament.

“Any details on the fight at all?” Talia cut in and knocked Rita off the desk playfully, deeming Rita to be too slow and deeming herself as much too eager to know more details to gossip about.

“I mean.. There isn’t much to say, especially if you’ve seen it.” Scrooge dismissed them, just trying to get it off his mind already. Every time he thought of that day, all he could see was Rebecca’s shattered visage. Her nose looked more like a gaping hole in her face as opposed to, well, a nose.

“Seriously? There's nothing you can tell us? Come on, we love the tea, Eb!” Rita pushed herself back into Scrooge’s view after being knocked off by Talia.

“Not really..” He shook his head, receiving a dejected sigh from them both.

“Awh, well that’s just so bori-” Talia’s words were cut short by Belle interceding. A soft and gentle voice, yet commanding to them.

“Leave him alone about it girls, he’s probably going through a lot after seeing that.” Belle lay a hand on Scrooge’s shoulder reassuringly, Rita rolling her eyes.

“We saw it too! He’s not special because he got front row tickets! Vanny sent me the video and she was even closer than he was!”

“Rita, It’s different because it wasn’t your childhood friend beating a girl’s face until it was unrecognisable. Your reaction would be very different if Talia or I did that.” Belle enunciated the “or I” with a tinge of disgust, as if she’d never dare to participate in that kind of behaviour and activity.

“Whatever, you two are boring!” Talia swung an arm over Rita’s shoulder and dragged her back to their respective seats.

Now, Scrooge and Belle were sitting alone. Together, at the back, where nobody is necessarily listening because that's where all the loners sit, not like those cocky smart kids who guarded the front with their lives for, clearly, no apparent reason since the back of the class is un-debatably better than the front. If you disagreed, you were just so confidently wrong.

The chatter of everyone else in the class dumbed down as the teacher, Mr Friar, stood up, flipped a task on the board as a starter. The whole class got to work, some got to talking instead. Most got to talking instead. Including the two at the back.

Belle cleared her throat lightly, turning to Scrooge.

“So.. I hate to ask you this, but I must admit I am curious..”

Scrooge’s attention peaked, his head turned and nodded.

“How did the fight start? She scribbled some notes off the board into her book whilst asking

“Well, Rebecca’s just been a bitch to me and Mar-” Scrooge stuttered, cleared his throat and continued. “Jacob. She’s been a bitch to me and Jacob since we were kids.”

Belle chuckled lightly “You can just call him Marley, I know you two call each other by your surnames. It’s cute.”

“Ah.” Scrooge anxiously pursed his lips, Belle continuing her questions despite it.

“Well, what did she do to provoke him?” She’d finished her notes by now, putting her pen down and turning her full attention to Scrooge.

“She started off with really bad ‘you’re gay!’ jokes at me and Marley, then she called him a slur, not the first time she has. And.. got her face knocked in.” He responded sharply, Belle gasping

“Oh, god.. That’s terrible..” Her brows furrowed in sympathy before she followed with “Well, then the bitch had it coming. That’s so disrespectful.”

Scrooge laughed behind his hand, so did Belle.

“I remember your reaction, you just stood there with your jaw on the floor.” He continued after the laughter.

“Well your reaction was priceless, you almost looked happy to see her get knocked in. After what I’ve just heard, I’m not surprised. Were you happy?” She twirled some hair around her finger, looping it over and over, waiting for Scrooge to reply and continue the conversation

“In a way, I was. But I never really thought I’d see Marley do that. Especially for.. me-” A light hesitation came from Scrooge before saying “me”.

“Is he like.. particularly violent?” Belle’s questions persisted.

“Yeah. I mean, he sometimes is- He’s just like that. School says he has ‘special circumstances’ so he always gets off so easily.” Scrooge’s stutters were now becoming clockwork. He didn’t know whether he could describe Marley as violent if he had never been violent towards him whatsoever, and Scrooge had only seen some underlying violent tendencies and urges from him over the span of years.

Belle raised a brow, slightly confused. “He’s naturally violent?”

“He told me you two knew each other, at least briefly.” Scrooge spat out, trying to switch topics.

Belle sighed lightly.

“I’m friends with Robert and he happens to be as well, so we’ve talked once or twice.” Her tone was suddenly a bit more solemn.

“I’ll assume that those conversations weren’t very.. pleasant?” Scrooge was mildly confused as to why her shift in tone was so.. drastic. Marley had always been so incredibly sweet to him. He couldn’t comprehend how Belle would have any problems with him. Then again, he’s seen how Marley treated Rebecca.. But that was different, as far as Scrooge believed.

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but shut it and bit her tongue - as if holding something back.

“It doesn’t matter, it isn’t my place to say. You should just ask him yourself.” She mumbled out, Scrooge remaining confused.

“Aha. Alright.”

The next ten minutes of the lesson was spent in silence. An awkward, lasting silence. A silence that lasted until a glint of sunlight came from Scrooge’s right. Sunlight. Coming from the door window. Slightly ahead of his classroom door was Marley’s class. His gaze shot towards it, the light diminishing as a door shut over it and a pair of tall, stiff legs exited..

***

Mrs Winthregate cleared her throat smoothly, tugging on the door handle of S-4. A science classroom, on the first floor of the B.P.C Block - Biology, Physics, Chemistry. More commonly known as “Science Block” by the students. She swung the door open, garnering attention from every set of eyes within it as she half-entered, only poking her head in. Well, one set of eyes didn’t lock on her. Jacob Marley’s. He sat in the far back end of the classroom, leaning against the wall and flicking his pen against his thigh. Robert Cratchit, a fairly studious child at his right. His brows furrowed as he nudged Jacob, grabbing his attention and pointing at the door.

“Oh, Miss. How can I help?” Their teacher smiled nervously at Winthregate’s entrance, clasping her hands together to divert her attention.

“I’d like to borrow Jacob Marley for a chat , please.” Winthregate responded sharply, Jacob rolling his eyes and rising from his chair lazily. She smiled and held the door open for him, but Jacob showed no level of gratitude or even acknowledgement for her manners. Her grip on the handle loosened, chatter erupting in the class the second the door shut - clearly audible even when the door was closed.

“Jacob-” Winthregate began, Jacob leaning on the closed door. “I’d like to discuss an incident with you, please.” She ensured that she remained gentle, knowing he was a ‘sensitive student’ (as described on his files).

Jacob had no response, he simply nodded his head lightly.

“Well I’m sure you know what incident I’m talking about already so-” A soft cough came from Winthregate in the middle of her speech, then Jacob harshly cut in.

“Can you get on with it? I beg .” Jacob rolled his eyes and adjusted his posture, hands sliding into his pockets and thin framed glasses softly and slightly rolling further down his nose.

“Okay.. Well. You caused severe damage to Rebecca Cornfield’s face. Her nose, she’s had to have it plastically restructured. I recall a wellness team being sent to your home to talk to you about this already.” Though her blood boiled beneath her light beige button up shirt and freshly ironed blazer - she remained calm and gentle with him.

“I know, I knocked her in pretty good.” A sly grin appeared on his face, Winthregate’s brow rose in confusion and in a way, disgust, from his lack of sympathy.

“Jacob, I don't think you’re taking this seriously.. Your violent tendencies don’t begin here, this is not the first time you have caused physical damage to a student. It’s a very glaring problem.” Winthregate proceeded, but that same smirk remained plastered on Jacob’s contorted, laughing face.

“Yeah I know man, can you tell me something I don’t know?” His sarcastic, mocking tone had Winthregate grow red with fury.

“You are at risk of being expelled if another incident like this happens again. Matter of fact, you are very lucky that you have not already been! You have special circumstances for these cases, but that does not mean you have an ‘out of jail free’ card!” Her fingers bobbed up and down in quotation marks when saying ‘out of jail free’.

“I could do with a few more days off, how about you suspend me?” Jacob loosened his posture again and leaned against the door once more.

“Why would you want to be suspended? You want that on your school record? Four suspensions, tens of detentions and incidents of violence? You’re going to struggle getting into any colleges, universities or even getting a job in the future!”

“Eugh you’re boring me to death, Eden” An eye roll came from Jacob, calling Mrs Winthregate by her forename and slowly dragging his feet away towards the bathroom.

“Jacob! Jacob! Where are you going!?” She cladded after him in her heels, temper riling up and losing patience.

“For a piss. Where the fuck do you think I’m going?” Digging in his jacket pocket, Jacob pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one and took a thick puff of it.

“And I have a cigarette to finish while I’m there.”

Winthregate’s patience ran out - her vocal folds burning as she screamed down the hall and quickly fumbled with her phone, altering senior staff members to come support her. The ringing of the smoke alarm accompanying her squeals.

***

The commotion could be heard from inside all the classrooms down that corridor, kids rising up from their chairs and forcing their faces in the way of the door window to get a look. Scrooge sat frozen - not needing to know what was happening, because he knew Marley would either get expelled or suspended and message him an update. Matter of fact, the update was instantaneous. Scrooge’s phone buzzed in his bag with the teacher distracted and everyone grappling at the window - he swung himself under the desk and dug the phone out. Turning the brightness down, Scrooge clicked on the notifications. From Marley, of course.

“i’m fucked omg”

“SCROOGE”

“I’m begging, tell me you have your phone on”

Scrooge sighed, typing a response.

“Man what have you done? The whole fucking class is swarmed around that window.”

He watched anxiously as the chat bubble bobbed up and down, signifying that Marley was typing

“Winthregate was on my ass and telling me shit so I just walked away, told her i'm going to piss and lit a cig on my way”

“what.”

“the.”

“FUCK?”

Scrooge sent his reaction in three separate messages.

“I locked myself in the toilet and theres like four teachers stood outside, i’m so fucked Scrooge”

“Why did you do that!? You’re definitely getting expelled..”

A sigh expelled from Scrooge, praying that Marley’s punishment isn’t expulsion - he’d be left friendless and hopeless.

“I don’t know, I just did. Should I get out?”

“I don’t know! I feel like the longer you stay, the worse it’ll get but then if you get out now I'll be shitting myself over what’ll be happening in Head’s office.”

“I’ll just slip my phone in and update you?”

“You’re not gonna be able to slip your phone into his office. Don’t overestimate yourself and get that shit confiscated.”

“Just heard some teacher say they called my parents, well fuck.”

“You mean your mum? Imagine they called your dad and pulled him out of jail for this”

“LOL, he’d be proud of me, but Ma’ probably won’t like the idea of me smoking”

“Fuck, yeah good point. I feel like you’re mum is kind of light on you though”

“Yeah, only because she thinks I got it from Dad and doesn’t wanna be like him. She’s too soft on me, even telling fucking school that they should be gentle with me, like I’m special.”

“Ohhh. Well, everybody is sort of calming down now so I gotta go man.”

“Alright, I’ll step out. Pray 4 me bro”

Scrooge didn’t respond to that, knowing he’d get no response considering the commotion built up again as he did so - stepped out and bathroom and got pulled away by two agile looking male senior staff members. You could see him for a split second as they passed the classroom. He writhed and kicked his arms and legs, resisting - but soon to realise that was doing nothing.

“Oh my god.. Was that Marley!?” Belle’s jaw dropped, Scrooge rising from under the table and nodding.

“Yeah.. just messaged him. He’s fucked, smoking cigarettes, hiding, swearing..” Scrooge took a deep breath in as the teacher hurriedly split the crowd at the door and tried to control the disarranged class,

“Shit. He’s getting expelled.” Belle bit her lip anxiously, slid into her chair as Scrooge dropped into his, dejected.

“Hey hey.. He’ll be okay. I was only joking. I’m sure he won’t be, he has those ‘special circumstances’ right?” She lay a hand on Scrooge’s shoulder, his head rose to her in confusion.

“How do you know that-” Scrooge’s beady eyes suddenly dried, Belle giggling under her breath.

“You told me, remember?” She pushed some hair back behind her ear, Scrooge turning forwards and thinking for a while.

“Oh. yeah-” He chuckled, Belle’s smile was simply contagious.

“Just keep your phone on you, check at lunch or during period three. I’m sure he’ll only be suspended for a week-ish.” She took her hand off his shoulder to check the time on her watch, Scrooge nodding solemnly in reply to her.

“Lesson ends in five, we have English now.” Slowly grabbing her things and getting up, Belle got ready to leave. Scrooge followed and did the same, constantly glancing over at the glass anxiously.

***

Lunch had finally come, Scrooge sprinted out of period three English the second that bell tolled and made his way towards the toilets - only to have Bob stop him.

“SCROOGE! SCROOGE!” Bob ran up to him, panting and out of breath.

“If this is about Marley, I already know. I’m about to go message him and ask if he got suspended or-” Scrooge spoke calmly and solemnly, being harshly interrupted by Bob.

“DID YOU SEE HIM GET DRAGGED OUT THOUGH?” Bob was a short guy, but reached Scrooge’s height when jumping slightly, like he was right now.

“Yep. I did.” Scrooge responded coldly, going past Bob and rushing into the nearest cubicle. His phone slid out of his bag and his finger flicked against the silent switch. Forty six notifications appeared. Majority from Marley, the rest from whatever other apps he had downloaded. Anxiously, he opened the notifications from Marley. Yet only the first few caught his attention:

“So..”

“I’m suspended for two weeks.”

“Ma doesn't really care.."

“fucking bitch.”

“I’ll still try see you, I'm sorry.”

The rest of the messages were long strings of.. sudden apology?

“I’m sorry man, I don’t know why I do it”

“I’ll be better once I’m back”

“I swear”

Scrooge had noticed Marley doing this a lot recently. Shifting from one emotion to another rapidly. One moment he’d be happy, the next he’d be throwing tables and chairs. Yet as far as Scrooge was aware, those were just results of ‘poor emotional regulation’.

A hearty, weighted sigh left Scrooge’s lips. Two weeks. Two whole weeks he’d have to deal without Marley, after years of not being apart for more than five days. In a way, it felt hollowing and wrong. But in another way, it felt freeing. Scrooge now had two weeks of time to find a new friend routine. He wouldn’t want to divulge into being a loner, since that probably wouldn’t make him feel much better.

And he knew just the girl he wanted to create a routine with. He tried sending a response, but the message went red.

No signal.

Guess he'd have to wait until after school to respond.

Chapter Text

January 6th, 2020

11 AM - 11PM

4 °C

I’m suspended. Again. Two weeks this time, last time it was only three days. Now I’ve dug myself into a hole - and none of it is my fault.

I acknowledge the fact I am most likely not sane. I blame my father. I’ve even eavesdropped on conversations between my mother and her friends. They talk about him in hushed whispers, like his name alone is enough to bring him back. Due to these secretive behaviours - what I know of my father is limited. All I know is his name is Santiago, he had some kind of ‘predicament’ that my mother refuses to elaborate on, as if she doesn’t need to, since whoever she’s talking to already knows what she means. But I do pray one day she will, because I am oh so curious. I also know he’s in jail. He beat his new wife and her kid, so he’s locked up. I don’t know for how long, but I don’t think I’ll be seeing him ever again. Most likely scenario, I’ll find out when he dies, days or months or years after he drops, unable to attend the funeral of my own father. Tough, but true.

Regardless of his current situation, I still blame him for my behaviour. I must’ve taken something from him, maybe the ‘predicament’ is some mental issue he had and the fucker has passed it on to me. Whatever it is, it’s his fault. Not mine. My tendencies are something I cannot control, they’ve been festering over the past few weeks. Growing in intensity and frequency. I used to be able to somewhat regulate my switches in emotion but now - they just happen unprompted. I don’t know why, but I don’t think I want to know why either. I know my mother knows, but she won't tell me and I know that for a fact. She is a persistent and headstrong woman who keeps her word. In one way, that makes me respect her. In another way, that makes me resent her.

She wasn’t exactly happy about my suspension. Or finding out I smoked. I knew that wouldn’t sit right. I was taken to the Head’s office when I got out of the bathroom. I only sat there for about two minutes before she burst through the door, then calmly sat down where she was instructed. The chair to my right. The scowl on her face was immediate.

“You stink of cigarettes, Jake..” Only she called me that. She couldn’t quite pronounce Jacob, for some reason. She didn’t name me, Dad did. She couldn’t speak perfect, crystal clear English, but it was good enough for day-to-day life. I couldn’t speak Hindi, her native language. I grew up speaking Spanish with Dad and English to her - now I wonder if she ever understood me all that well.

But this was also an English environment, so she had to speak it here. She must’ve been used to that by now, tossing Hindi aside for 80% of her life and making English her prioritised language - even having to speak it with her son. It almost made me feel shame, the fact I couldn't communicate effectively with my own mother. What an embarrassment I must be to her. A lesser version of her other children, who she can speak to with proper competance.

I didn’t respond to her comment on cigarettes. I didn’t need to. I couldn’t just tell her that I don’t stink of cigarettes, I absolutely did. I also had a pack of them and a lighter in my pocket. She was indisputably right. It was heavy on my breath, I could still taste its ashy, charred flavour.

The Head Teacher sat before us, a desk splitting our chairs from hers. A nameplate sat neatly on the mahogany, reading “Mrs Kallahan”. A name I had only heard once or twice, because she was always out dealing with troublemakers. I guess I qualified as one now, if I didn’t before. Though I'm sure I did, even if I was on the lighter side back then. Not literally. I’m the furthest thing from light. Well, I’m coloured. This is becoming a tangent, isn’t it?

Kallahan’s fingers interlocked, clicking into one another as her rings clashed. Terrible rings, by the way. Some thin, some chunky. Silver and gold, not all just one metal. With gems popped off and glued back on messily with thick layers of superglue. Clashy. Shabby for the salary she must’ve been making from four thousand students.

She cleared her throat harshly, drawing any flickering attention straight to her. But all I could look at was those clashy rings. Heavily distracting, she ought to take them off if she wants to be taken seriously.

“Mrs Sharma-” Kallahan began, calling my mother by her maiden name as opposed to ‘Marley’. My father’s surname. The name Scrooge calls me, we found calling each other by our surnames was a compromise and now, it felt natural. I respond to my surname more than I do my first name. So maybe it’s better that I’m the only person in my family with that surname. Even Valentina had my mother’s surname. That’s one reason to feel a bit like an outlier.

“Please get on with it.” My mother was polite, but direct, and that sometimes came off as rude.

“Your son, Jacob, is becoming a problem here. Evidently.” She stared me down with this piercing, cold stare. I hardly reacted, softly scoffing with a shrug.

“I know that already, I want to know why he is a problem.” My mother’s patience was everlasting, so it confused me to see her temper thread away so quickly.

“Jacob has been causing a lot of trouble recently. He’d always been a troublemaker, but not as ferociously as now. You are aware of his fight last term, I’m sure, when he broke Rebecca Cornfield’s nose into unrecognition..” Kallahan swallowed with a loud gulp after mentioning the fight. God, everyone made such a big deal of it. It made me writhe . I should be praised for it, I was helping Scrooge. Defending him, and helping teach her a lesson about keeping her mouth shut. Where's my medal?! I’ve done everybody a favour, maybe she won’t be so confident now.

“I am aware. I have spoken to him about it already. What did he do today?” A sigh came from me as Ma’ mentioned ‘having spoken to me’ about that fight. She did speak to me, but it was just a long string of “I thought you were better than this” , “why did you do that?” and “don’t be like your father” ‘s. By the end of it I had enough of her reprimanding for the next year. But I was somewhat grateful, for I know if Dad was still here -  he would’ve given me a pat on the back and a nod of approval for the fight, before whooping my ass a moment later. He also had these sudden mood changes, like I’m having. Now not “being like your father” felt a lot harder to do.

“He was smoking cigarettes, insulting members of staff and hiding in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, on his phone, messaging another student.” I recoiled, how did they know I was on my phone messaging someone? Then common sense came back to me. My phone was on the desk in front of Mrs Kallahan. They’d probably checked it or at least seen notifications from Scrooge, who was saved as “ scroogey ” on my phone with a little analog heart. Cringe, but it’s a joke between us. My name (surname, whatever) ends with a Y, but his doesn’t. So we added a Y onto his for a laugh.

“I see..” My mother leaned back in her chair and crossed her left leg over her right. I wasn’t exactly bothered or nervous until I felt her gaze on me. Red hot, attentive gaze. I suddenly felt as if she wouldn’t be so light about this. Especially with the cigarettes..

“We didn’t suspend or expel him for the fight after our discussion at home with him, and you. But this shall have its consequences. Direct disobedience, plain lack of manners and rudeness, contraband - it’s revolting behaviour.” Calling me revolting was rich considering what she had on her fingers. Those rings probably weighed her down by a full kilo and also added some clang to her walk. Now I understood why her hair was always up in a slick, gelled back bun. Not to have her hair out the way, but to prevent it from getting stuck in those disgustingly adorned rings.

“We have chosen to suspend Marley for two weeks. His behaviour is disgusting, and he needs time to adjust that behaviour and drop his attitude.”

“Two.. weeks?!” For just smoking a cigarette and hiding in a toilet?!” My jaw dropped, I could almost feel it touch the floor. Two whole weeks. My concern wasn’t aimed at the ‘hours of schooling I was losing” or some other nerdy shit, but the hours of time I was losing with Scrooge. The hours of time he was gaining with Belle. Fuck. I had to get out of this.

I pushed myself forward, now sat on the edge of my plushy sage green chair. It no longer felt as comfortable as it did before. It felt more like an electric chair, enrobed in spikes and sweltering hot plates.

“Are you surprised you are receiving consequences? This suspension is for all of your other incidents too. I believe you haven’t been punished enough until this moment, but If you wish - I can give you longer.” She snarled at me, like the son of a bitch she was. I just knew underneath that ironed blouse, navy blazer and shit-eating grin, she wanted so badly to laugh straight in my face and expel my ass - but the loss of a kid means less money.

“You motherfuck -” I stood up, but my mother clasped her hand over my mouth.

“Thank you , very much.” She stood up, walking out with one hand pulling me and the other hand still over my mouth. She only let go of my hand briefly to swing my bag over her shoulder and grab my phone. Kallahan responded in a simple nod, my eyes not breaking away from her for the entire time. My eyes wide, face growing red - as if I was ready to literally combust. And the entire time, she kept that smirk on her face.

The door shut lightly behind us, the second it did I pulled myself out of my mother’s grasp and began to hyperventilate.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” That seemed to be the only thing that wanted to come out of my mouth, because I kept repeating it.

“Language, Jake.” My mother somehow remained calm, making her way out of the reception as I followed - or more like chased.

“WHY DID YOU JUST LET THAT HAPPEN?! TWO WEEKS! SHE SAID I’M SUSPENDED FOR TWO WEEKS!” My throat was already getting sore and my voice was growing hoarse, like I had been sick for days.

“Why are you so angry about this? I thought a longer winter break was nice for you. What bothers you?” She was just so.. calm!? It was riling me further up, did she even care!? Did she at all care her son would be missing two full weeks of school?!

“WHY AM I MAD? WHY AREN’T YOU!? HELLO, YOUR SON JUST GOT SUSPENDED FOR A WHOLE TWO WEEKS AND YOU GIVE THE LITTLEST OF A SHIT?” Now, we were standing in the parking lot. My mother leant against the car she came in. A black Sedan, Kamal, her husband, owned it. He was my stepdad, but I didn’t want to call him anything to do with the word “Dad”. The Sedan was his personal car, but he had a Mercedes as his work car.

Now this just looked like a riled up, bad tempered child was yelling at his mother as she barely reacted, more bothered about her nails than her son.

“Jake. Do not yell at your mother. Calm down.” Her knees bent lightly. Emphasis on ‘lightly’ because I was about almost taller than her, having hit a small growth spurt recently. She lay her hands on my shoulders, holding me steady as I breathed in and out with such aggression and energy that it could start a fire at my feet. We stood like that for a minute or two, before I felt tears well in my eyes and I pushed her off of me with a grunt. I could hear her sigh audibly as I pulled open the passenger car door and slammed it right after.

She didn’t get in the car for at least five minutes. It was either she was calming down, or she was waiting for me to calm down. Probably the latter, because she could most definitely hear me convulsively sobbing within the car, before getting angry again, and sobbing all over again. I was honestly just waiting for her to come in and laugh at me for these sudden switches. I had no control over it, I just felt so pathetic - sat in that car alone. Weeping into my hands and sleeves until they were sodden with snot.

Eventually, she did take her place in the driver's seat at my side. I was fumbling with my phone, messaging Scrooge through my tears, waiting anxiously for a response - only to get nothing, because he was in class whilst I was sobbing in the car park like a kid, my own mother refusing to acknowledge it. Well, until she did.

“Jake - Please calm down.” She almost whispered, but I heard her well, even with my sniffling.

“I’m fucking trying?” I had no way to respond but with anger. She just sighed. A hole of guilt instantly opened up within me and tears ran down my face again. There was nothing I could do but let them run and drip down on my legs. I was far past embarrassment now.

The drive home had to have been the quietest and most awkward drive ever. There was no dialogue or noise, only the low buzz of the engine, the sound of the car’s wheels running against the rocky road and my sniffles dumbing down over time. It made ten minutes feel like hours. Feel like hell.

I got out of the car before my mother was even done parking in the driveway. I’d taken the keys from the glovebox and opened the door myself, leaving it ajar as I forced my shoes off and sprinted up the stairs. The door to my room slammed shut and that is how it stayed for hours.

I wanted nothing but to be alone, and I got exactly what I wished for. Pure solitude for hours. I could hear light footsteps and conversation at around three, but that must’ve just been Kamal coming home with Valentina, Veda, Rahul and Ziana. The unproblematic bunch. The four out of the five who didn’t break down crying in the middle of the day, who didn’t throw tantrums and fits, who didn’t have anything wrong with them. I was the outlier, the exception, an anomaly. I’d never felt like I belonged, but now, I didn’t feel like I was there at all.

My phone lightly buzzed beneath me. My hands fumbled rapidly at my pocket and clawed it out. Three notifications, labelled as being from Scrooge. A gentle finger pressed on the white box to open the app. The notifications read:

“Two weeks?! You have to be joking Mar..”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? I have like, nobody to hang with.”

“These better be the quickest two weeks of my life or I’ll be bored to death,”

A light smile spread itself across my face, warming my cheeks. It felt good to know at least he cared. Another vibration, followed by a new message

“Man does this mean I won’t be seeing you for two weeks straight?! That fucking sucks.”

That gave me an idea. One so bright that I could literally feel the heat of a lightbulb sparking in my head as my fingers sped across the keyboard and sent:

“Who said I can’t come after school? Who said I can’t come now?”

I waited for a reply.

Ding.

“Are you sure you’re going to be allowed? You just got suspended. I don’t think your mum will just let you go out willy nilly.”

Yeah. I hadn’t thought of that actually.

“Worth a shot” I typed out and sent before finally escaping my room and trodding downstairs. My feet barely met the floor before my mother had shown up at the door frame to the left of the staircase.

“You’re finally out.” She mumbled softly.

“Yeah. I’m going to Scrooge’s, by the way.” I jumped off the final step and towards the shoe rack, sliding on one shoe before being interrupted.

“Oh I don’t think so, Jake.” My mother grabbed my wrist, but with hardly any grip - so my hand slipped out with ease. But her comment still held me aback.

“Why not?” I acted oblivious and it only made me sound stupid.

“You may be suspended for two weeks, but you’re grounded for one of those weeks.”

I could feel myself grow pale with sickness. Grounded? I’d never been grounded, because she was always so light on me - what made her so headstrong all of a sudden?!

“WHAT?!” Manners were out the window. I felt myself snapping again.

“You- You can’t just restrict me from seeing him!” I was letting my heart win over my head, and each word that came out made me feel even worse and even more idiotic. Tears were starting to blur my vision, but before they ran down me, I grabbed my shoes and sprinted up the stairs.

Another, dejected sigh came from her. That same burrow of guilt came back and pushed me even further into the security of my room. My space. For a while, I just sat against the wall miserably, staring blankly into the distance. She was restricting me from the only good thing left in my life. Oh no , that wouldn’t do.

Another light bulb came. This one even brighter and hotter but not with knowledge. Stupidity and recklessness. I slid my shoes on and grabbed a random hoodie, swinging it over my shoulders. I ran up to my window and observed the distance from the ground, not far - but enough to hurt. Thank the gods, right to the far left was a thick string of wall vines that I could climb down. There were also loose bricks in the wall that I could hold on to, though I didn’t exactly feel like relying on old bricks popping out of my wall for stability.

Regardless, I opened the window as far as I could and made my move. The landing was fairly smooth- safe to say I nailed it, even.

Scrooge only lived a couple of blocks away. So I climbed every fence, dodged every pole and ran through all the shrubbery until I made it. I knew I was there simply by the smell of the fragrant rose bushes - of which I would have to slip through to get in. A small hole in the fence resided where the bushes were planted. Getting through them was my only way - so I did. Now I was in his garden. His room was also on the second floor, but there was a short ladder nearby that I used to climb up. The look on his face when I knocked on his window with a shabby smile and tufts of rose bush in my hair, thorns in my hands and face. Whilst he presented wide, beady eyes of fear, fiddling fingers of urgency at the opening of the window and a smile of just the purest joy. Just priceless . Despite the circumstance, he was happy to see me, I just knew. He even said it himself, but Nigel wasn’t happy, obviously. Who would be happy to see a child, though familiar to them, suddenly appear in their son’s room like an apparition, out of nowhere on a school night? The first day back after winter term, even. With thorns in his hair from the father’s well tended bushes. He was sort of like my mother, in the way he never reprimanded but instead ‘taught lessons’ and all that corny shit. I only stayed for maybe ten minutes, because Nigel had called my mother. Son of a bitch..

He cleared his throat, yawning in between as the phone rang.

“Yes?” My mother’s voice came from the other end.

“Hey, Avani! Uh.. Marley’s here. Like, at our house.. Did you let him come over or..?” Nigel gave me an unfamiliar look, like I was a lost object begging for recognition and return to my owner. I sat hunched over as Scrooge picked thorns and branches out my hair as gently as he could.

“Oh.. I- I didn’t know that.” It came out in a mumble, but I still heard the disappointment in her voice. Why did I ever think this would work..

“Could you bring him back, maybe?” I could only guess that was what she said, because it was mainly inaudible.

“Yeah, sure. We’ll be there in five.” Nigel put his phone down and swung his car keys around his finger, I hugged Scrooge and then followed him into the car.

I wasn’t surprised he called my mother, I honestly expected it - but I was surprised when he, a chatty man, drove me home in complete silence with half lidded, tired eyes. What confused me most was his fatigue - it was only around four, but he looked ready for sleep. What confused me even more though, was when I came back home and nothing happened.

No reprimanding or even shock. Not that I was expecting any. My mother just smiled at me as if I had just come back from school or like she knew I had gone. That made me wonder if she even cared about me. If I got run over or hurt on my way there - would she care then? My answer came to me only hours later when she came into my room at around eleven. I was in my bed, unmoving, pretending to sleep.

“I know you’re up, Jake.” Her voice was soft and soothing, but her gentleness only irritated me.

I sighed under the covers and cowered deeper into them, her sigh outdid mine and I heard it even with the sheets rustling in my ear.

“Why did you do that? Why did you leave?” Her voice remained fairly calm, she wasn’t reprimanding me - she was talking. She never reprimanded, but I honestly expected it this time, so it did shock me.

“You said I was grounded and I couldn’t go see him. I wanted to see him.” I murmured beneath the sheets. She “ huh ”ed at me. 

“Talk to me, Jake. Don’t mumble at me.” My mother was one of little words, but words that remained resolute. Her accent was fairly thick, but I could decipher it in seconds with no delay. I was so used to it. Like clockwork.

I, reluctantly, pulled myself out the sheets and sat beside her. She was short and I had quite a tall bed, so her feet swung off lightly whilst mine firmly touched the ground. I was fifteen and growing rapidly. She always told me I took after my father in looks and height. I didn’t like that. I no longer remembered his face, and I didn’t want to think about the fact that my reflection is one of any likeness to him.

“You told me I couldn’t go see him.” Short and sharp. A simple response. I had to keep my words simple to ensure she understood me. What I wanted to say sounded a lot more like a grudge - “You told me I couldn’t see him so I left. I didn’t have plans of coming back so soon.”

“No, I told you that you were grounded . Why do you think you are grounded?” My mother shuffled slightly, turning more to face me.

“I don’t know, do I? I get enough shit from school, I don’t need it from you too, Ma.” I could feel a snarl curling up on my face. One of anger. Her calm and resolute demeanour after what should’ve been a big deal made me feel so unloved and uncared for. If Valentina, Veda, Rahul or Ziana did this, she’d be sobbing into these sheets.

“Because you misbehaved. You were disrespectful and directly disobeyed everything I've taught you about substances. You know, when Kamal and I-” I let her speak, respectfully, until she mentioned him.

“If this is going to be about him, I don’t want to hear it, Ma.” I cut in harshly like a knife. No, more like a dagger. Abruptly, interrupting my own mother. I’d be getting whooped if she was as traditional as Dad was. Then again, I'd be dead by now if Dad was still around. My father was in jail, locked up behind bars for years without end. Kamal was not my father, I didn’t want him to act like he was. He was the father of three out of my four siblings - but he wasn’t mine. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I'm sure he was at least twenty five percent of the reason as to why I’ll be moving out as soon as possible. The other seventy five probably lies in the fact that I’d like to live with Scrooge.

“It isn’t about Kamal, I just want you to know how I feel seeing you go down this path..” I could tell how fed up she was with me - but she kept her cool.

“You cannot handle your emotions right now. Cigarettes or alcohol and whatever else won’t help you.” I knew she was right, but I couldn’t look her in the eyes and admit I was wrong. I don’t know why.

“You cannot do this alone, I want to help you, Jacob.” She said my proper name, but struggled to say it right. It sounded more like “zhecob”. Then again, she said “Jake” like “zhake” too - but it sounded better to her. 

“Zhecob” I mocked lightly as she nudged my arm and giggled with me. We sat and laughed together for a while, nudging back and forth. Eventually came the exhale.

“Don’t lie to me, please. Jake. Just be honest with me. Don’t be stupid. Okay? I don’t want to see you go down the same path as your father.” My mother’s genuine, caring glint in her eyes rubbed away any doubts of her not loving me. A mother’s love, I've always been told, is unconditional. My mother’s love is just unusual, but it’s love regardless. We hugged, she softly kissed my curls and I nodded off to sleep. Well, not before texting Scrooge at least nine hundred times - updating and filling him in. He texted me first, asking if I got home alright, if I was asleep yet, what my mother thought of me sneaking out - question after question, like word vomit, came flowing out. I filled him in, we talked for about an hour or more and called it a night, even though it was already one in the morning. Finishing with a typical “See you tomorrow” and a few “goodnights” nestled between that. Well, I then went on to correct myself - knowing I wouldn’t be seeing him tomorrow. I just wrote “See you later” and that sufficed.

Chapter Text

January 20th, 2020

The two weeks of Marley’s suspension had finally come to an end. The entire time - he and Scrooge hadn’t seen each other. They only spoke over text. Being unable to call or visit one another since Marley was grounded for the first week of the suspension, and for the second - Scrooge claimed to be busy. Of course, Marley was upset by it, severely upset by it, - but respected the fact that Scrooge wouldn’t lie to him. Well - that’s what he wanted to believe, yet an inkling of doubt had begun to settle itself within him recently. Despite how hard he tried to dismiss it, it persisted and continually made him trust Scrooge’s words less. Seeing his promises as nothing more but candied, sugar coated lies. How he would hate to be proved right..

The day started off as usual. Scrooge getting driven by Nigel, Marley getting dropped off by his mother a bit earlier than usual so he could ensure he was there first, waiting for Scrooge. To the point where he even forced her out the door and got to the gates before they even opened. He was there at seven, the gates opened ten minutes later and the early-comers started to arrive first. Typical nerds and loners. Kandice, Jay, Piper, then Belle. Belle . Just the thought of her name made Marley wince with anger and jealousy. He’d never admit it to Scrooge’s face, but he was madly jealous of the bond he could see them making - it sickened him. He hadn’t even been in for the past week - but he saw the signs weeks ago when they first began to interact. It didn’t help that Scrooge had directly mentioned her to him before they broke off for Christmas - a further indication of their closeness. She noticed Marley staring at her as she walked in, sending him a warm smile and a small wave, as if they were distant friends - even if they were anything but that. Yet in response, all he did was snarl. The soft burn of rooting anger started within him, but rapidly diminishing as Nigel’s shining, silver Mercedes pulled around the bend and stopped only inches away. Out of the passenger seat flew out Scrooge, leaping into Marley’s arms without even shutting the car door behind him. Nigel watched from inside the car with a proud smile, leaning over to shut the door for him and driving away slowly, watching them still through the rearview mirror.

Scrooge’s head glued to Marley’s shoulder, digging itself further in as Marley’s arms wrapped around his back and softly itched the sides of his waist.

“It feels like it’s been forever since I last saw you!” Scrooge lifted his head up briefly, smiling straight at Marley’s blushed, peachy face, yet remaining oblivious to it as usual.

“I know.. I’m sorry-” Marley sighed, his grip on Scrooge slowly loosening and his right arm migrating beneath Scrooge’s left, linking - like usual.

“What for?” Scrooge reciprocated the link with a tighter hold, walking into school now with Marley. A light smile stretched across his visage.

“Getting suspended.. again -” An eye-roll came with the “again”. “I don’t know why they made this one last so long.” Just the thought of the suspension had Marley grit his teeth with annoyance, he’d never wanted to go back to school so bad .

“You don’t have to say sorry, I know that whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault.” Scrooge’s voice seemed softer than before. Marley couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sounded different. Perhaps a sore throat? It was January after all, he may have caught a cold - colds of which he was incredibly susceptible to. It seemed as if he was always ill, even in summer when the air wasn’t ravaged with sickness.

“You’re telling me the fact I brought cigarettes to school, swore at a teacher and beat Rebecca’s face in wasn’t my fault?” He scoffed, laughing softly under his breath. “Matter of fact, how is her nose? Does she still have that massive cast on it?”

“No, just a small bandage now - her nose actually doesn’t look that bad.. But she still gives me dirty looks for it.” Scrooge quietened his voice as they reached a bend around the carpark and passed through into the yard. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see in English..” Marley remained attentive, looking out to see if he could see any of Rebecca’s bastard cronies, who’s listen in and snitch to her - but all he could see was the soft gaze of Belle, occasionally - no, often, glancing over at him and Scrooge with a giggle. She was mainly occupied with Lola, but her turns were much too frequent to fall under Marley’s radar.

“Belle keeps looking over at us..” He bit his tongue and raised a brow at her, Scrooge only giggling lightly in response.

“She’s probably looking at me, Mar.” Scrooge’s grip on Marley’s arm relaxed, a light panic rising within Marley.

“Why..?” He kept somewhat calm, trying to keep his composure despite being suddenly triggered by all his surroundings - feeling itchy in his clothes, his ears ringing from the smallest, lightest noise. The brushing of his curls against the back of his neck and sides of his head now felt like a thousand needles poking his body.

“We’re.. friends now. I had nobody to hang out with when you were gone, so I got along with her.” The tone of Scrooge’s voice when he said “friends” rang in Marley’s ears like an alarm - it suggested otherwise. Friends . Friends, such a direct term now felt so broad.

“ Just friends..?” Marley had to be sure. He couldn’t leave his suspicions hanging by a thread.

“Don’t take it like that! We are just friends.” Scrooge’s face instantly grew a light shade of pink from embarrassment, whilst Marley’s grew red with rage. He received no response.

“Marley-” Scrooge began, disturbed by the sudden silence “I’m being serious, we’re only friends. I swear to you.” 

“Mhm..” Marley mumbled in response, his anger converting into annoyance.

“Come on.. I’ve never lied to you!” Now Scrooge was insisting, set on convincing Marley, yet not for long.

“Yeah not yet you haven’t” His response came out in more of a cold grunt than regular speech. In response, all he received was a profound sigh.

“You don’t believe me..” Scrooge exhaled, suddenly triggering something within Marley.

“No, I do- I-” Marley suddenly stuttered, his brows furrowing and whole expression narrowing into a frown, an apologetic and guilty look slathered across his face. “I’m sorry, Scrooge-”

“No no it’s fine I never meant to upset you I just-” Scrooge began, but was quick to be silenced by Marley pulling him in for a hug, of which he quickly reciprocated, despite some funny looks. He could hear a light weeping from Marley, whose face dug into Scrooge’s shoulder. Weeping that only lasted about thirty seconds before Marley rose and exhaled harshly. It was too short to question, but still unusual since Marley seemed to never cry.

“I keep having these mad fucking mood swings.. Sorry-” He rubbed his palm against his forehead, Scrooge laughing lightly.

“I know already, you told me the other day. Just a bit different to see it actually happen though..” Scrooge scooted his arm beneath Marley’s, forming a tighter link than before - a reassuring one.

“Yeah, Ma's been pressing me about it since the suspension. She wants me to get a therapist.”

“Oh God..” That warranted a harsh reaction from Scrooge, having a therapist of his own who he despised. Mainly for how direct and cold he was. Therapy didn’t feel like “talk about your problems to get them off your chest!” It felt like “talk about your problems and get told what is wrong with you, but not how to fix it.” Though over time, Scrooge had gotten used to it in a way. Still, he didn’t enjoy any of his sessions, which went from weekly to monthly. Much more suitable for him.

“Yeah.. I don’t want no fucking therapist. It’s just mood swings, it can’t be anything that bad.” Of course, Marley knew of the intensity of his mood swings - but he’d refuse to admit that to anyone, even Scrooge.

“I’m sure it’s just hormonal and you’ll be over it soon.” Just as Scrooge said that, the bell tolled and the two separated. First, off to registration - then twenty minutes later - Marley, off on his own to lesson and Scrooge gluing to Belle - walking to lesson together as an envious glare lit in Marley’s eyes whilst he passed by.

***

The following weeks flowed by smoothly, with only minor road bumps in terms of exams, detentions and Marley’s mood swings. Life seemed to be on the up, and so was the hope of a relationship, one more than friends. As January wisped away and February - the season of love - flew upon them and Cupid tightened his bow and fastened his sheath of arrows, the time was perfect for a confession. A declaration of love and romantic devotion. An ‘I love you’ said twice, each from a different mouth. Marley waited anxiously for one from Scrooge, but was quick to come to his wits and realise that probably wasn’t going to happen. So, he began to take matters into his own hands.

Yet, the plan was quick to fall out of his hands and slip through his fingers. For every time Marley did as little as think of confessing, a sickness rose in him and almost sent him keeling over himself, like he had a stomach bug that needed throwing up - but the bug was something as innocent as love. Just the concept of standing before Scrooge, professing love and - though unlikely, he was sure - the possibility of getting rejected, had his stomach acid rise back up his throat, making him lose his appetite for confession. Heartache, in the form of heartburn. If these thoughts and feelings alone were enough to cause this, he could only imagine what it’d be like to actually do it. He’d probably faint, or actually projectile vomit all over himself. So that idea was quickly outlawed. Maybe another time, in a year or two. He could do with some more fantasising either way. Being a spectator had become a speciality of his, he learned more from watching than anything else.

On the complete opposite ballpark - Marley had noticed not only a shift in himself, but also Scrooge. Over such a short time, he changed drastically. Suddenly apologetic, gentle, warm, comforting and.. distant . Though nothing was physically separating them anymore like a suspension or being grounded - they felt more distant than ever before. Well, at least Marley did. They could be stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder and still feel miles apart. Whereas, Scrooge and Belle only grew closer. Speaking in hushed whispers to one another, walking to lessons in tandem, having mutual friends in the tens - as Marley pitifully watched from the sidelines. Scrooge and him still spent time together, but hours less than before. When they used to spend every break, every lunch and every day with one another - now they only spent maybe two or three days in the week together. The other days Scrooge would be with Belle or whoever else they knew, leaving Marley to sit alone behind a tree or pillar so as to not be seen and waiting for the bell to ring and free him from his solitude. So close, yet so far away. The sudden disconnect hallowed a gaping, empty hole in Marley’s heart and made him feel even less confident about confessing, so much so that the idea had entirely slipped his mind only a week after conceptualisation.

Yet today just seemed perfect .

February 14th, 2020.

11 AM - 12 PM

15 ° C

Valentines day. It rolled around in good time, oh it was just perfect. The perfect opportunity landed in my lap, and I wasn’t going to ignore it. My heart throbbed for just a hint of what love was. Chocolates wrapped in heart shaped boxes, teddies with poorly sewn on red hearts, scribed with horribly corny, cheesy love messages like “you’re my only” and “love you forever!”. Yet, despite being so horribly corny and cheesy - I yearned to receive one. From anyone would be nice, but there was only one set of hands I wanted it from. I only wanted one, particular voice to say the words - “I love you.”. And it was his.

For a while, I refused to believe I loved Scrooge. Despite the fact that I had noticed a shift, a very noticeable one at that. When I was near him, I no longer felt that same platonic warmth within me. Instead, what I felt was unfamiliar and narrow. So narrow in fact I couldn’t quite narrow it down. I theorised love, but brushed it off almost immediately. For that was a thought so frivolous and unsavoury that it would pollute my very being if I thought of it for a moment longer. So, I didn't. Well. I tried. I didn’t think about it until there was nothing else I could think about but that feeling. I thought and racked my brain about it so heavily, that I had eventually accepted it. Without a shadow of a doubt about it - I must be in love .

For a day in February, the weather was gorgeous. A light breeze with a slightly clouded, blue sky. The chill was noticeable, but the soft, warm rays of the sun managed to provide the slightest taste of the upcoming spring season. My least favourite unfortunately, as a victim of hayfever.

Just from looking at my phone and seeing the number “14” after the word “February” had my stomach flip and ribs tighten as my hunger for love returned in a rush. Everything, from that point onwards, felt so much lighter. Even I felt light as a feather, my feet scuttering and skipping rather than dragging. I was in such a state of infatuation and fantasy that I could’ve never predicted how quickly my demeanour would diminish and disappear.

I didn’t see him until lunch. He wasn’t in my period one or two lessons, I didn’t see him before registration and I didn't see him at break. Of course that was slightly unusual - but I had noticed us growing slightly distant recently, so it didn’t shake me too much, but it still upset me and I could slowly feel my enthusiasm fade, before picking back up again the very second I saw his face nearing mine at lunch.

His soft, light smile sent this shrill of excitement through me to the point where I couldn’t contain it. My blood coursing through my veins at litres per second, respiring like I was asthmatic - taking the deepest breaths I’ve ever taken, so many that they made me feel lightheaded and I felt that same sickness from before protrude my stomach and soar up my throat. But I managed to push it down with a thick ball of dry saliva, even if I could taste the acid in the back of my throat and had to ignore its insidious burn. Scrooge now stood before me, an embarrassed, pink face on as I shivered in anticipation.

“Marley.. I have something to tell you-” His voice quivered lightly in the middle. I’d usually comment on something like that, but my energy was diverted elsewhere. I couldn’t even respond to him, only nod and pretend to be calm whilst exploding with anticipation inside.

“Me and Belle are.. Together -”

I could almost feel my heart stopping as if it shattered at my feet. Silence. I was silent outside, but inside I was weeping convulsively and screaming in agony. All my hot, energetic blood fell down into my legs and made my knees quiver. Everything had slipped between my fingers, and I’d watched and let it happen like a fool.

“W-What?” That was all I could muster. I could just see the worry plaster across his face and the regret. I could only imagine my expression from his point of view - because I felt cold with shock. Unmoving, like stone.

“I swear I’m not replacing you or anything I just-” Scrooge’s voice was just as shaky as mine, perhaps he was feeling the same thing as me - but he couldn’t be. I refuse to believe anyone can. My thoughts, my emotions, my feelings - they are so complex, not even I can comprehend them. How could he? Such a simple minded folk, even feel anything that resembles what I feel. I was turning to lunacy, questioning my own emotions, mind and body in an effort of trying to decipher his. I had to say something - but I didn’t know what. So I said what I knew would make him happy.

“No no.. I’m.. I’m so happy. . for you-” I was thinking the complete opposite but I suppose I said it to reassure him, but I doubt he believed me because his eyebrow rose and voice was stifled by uncertainty. 

“Are you..?” Though I could hardly hear him through the persistent ringing in my ears - I was able to somewhat make out what he said and nod, holding gallons of tears back with all my remaining energy. I felt liberated when I saw him smile and pull me in for a hug. The tightest hug he’s ever given me, but the loosest hug I’ve ever given him.

“Do you want me to bring her over so you can have a.. introduction?” I nodded vigorously in response, anything to be left alone for even a split second. He turned around and sped off towards Belle at the other side of the yard. The second his back was to me I hurled forwards, covering my mouth to prevent the bile in my mouth from spilling out. Thankfully, there was a tree a few inches away from me that I managed to hide behind. The second my back hit its trunk, my knees buckled beneath me and head sunk into them. Balling. Wailing. Crying like I had never cried before, crying without even noticing. Tears just sped down my face and soaked into my skin. With every breath I tried to take, it became a gasp and a game of trying to not throw up on myself.  I bit my tongue so hard that it began to bleed, feeling even more bile rise from my stomach but forcing it to remain lodged in my throat. I didn’t allow it to mingle with the blood that filled my mouth. Yet something even more potent and vehement found itself within me, displacing the burn of the bile and metallic undertones of the blood. Jealousy. It swelled up and festered within my entire being, growing spores and multiplying within seconds like a disease, as if I had been infected by the sprouts of cordyceps and I was slowly dying internally, soon to be bound to the ground beneath me. I felt it spreading, it was all I felt. It is still all I feel, just thinking of this moment. It infected me, it felt - and tasted - like a revolting sickness. My heart ached, but not in the same way it ached nearby him, it was a nauseating, excruciating pain. One I couldn't be rid of. The air felt so heavy and thick in my lungs that I couldn’t bring myself to stand, even when using both arms and legs to try to rise. My tears evaporated in the humid air, leaving my face dry but lightly coated in sweat and dried down marks of what used to be tears. I met the ground with a slam, having slightly elevated myself but falling again, back pressing itself against that tree once more and knocking a dry cough out of my lungs. I could feel tears welling back up in my eyes, ready to stream down but then it all just.. Stopped. The sensation of crying dissolved away, and so did everything else I was feeling. It all just suddenly left me and what used to feel like a weight in my chest now felt like a hollowing, empty space where my heart once was. I felt nothing but cold, as if my soul had astrally projected and left my body. A cold husk was left behind. Nothing, but emptiness.

Sudden, soft footsteps came up behind me alongside a voice much too familiar to me. A voice I know all too well.

“Marley..? Fuck, where’d he go?” Scrooge’s voice. Oh Scrooge . A voice I so loved hearing, one I heard in my dreams - now felt so irritating. He had lied to me and deceived me. He told me they were only friends and that they’d never go this far. How much of a fool must I have been to believe him?! To look into his trusting, beady eyes and find hope, as opposed to deceit. Now, anger riled up in me again and burned at my flesh. It felt like fire was consuming me and eating away at my heart. My oh so vulnerable and trusting heart, now in pieces by his command.

The anger kept boiling within me - but soothed and calmed at the hearing of a more feminine voice. Belle’s, clearly - for I recognised it. I wasn’t soothed by her, but by a sudden possibility that struck me like lightning. It was a delusional possibility, something that would take more effort than I would’ve wanted - but I was feasting off of my vehemence, and it was all I could think of in that moment. A scheme. A plan. A plan that only a lovestruck idiot would ever try, one who plans to have his heart broken. Yet, I felt ready for that - if this was what heartbreak feels like, I’ll take it on and on, again and again until I can grasp that finish line. He, Scrooge, is the finish line.

“Do you think he ran off..?” Belle’s voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard for me. My idea - no, my scheme was fueled by pure delusion - but it sounded like the only logical option to me. The weight in my chest lightened, my feet stood me up without thought and my sleeves traced my entire face, wiping it dry. Our bags, meaning mine and Scrooge’s, happened to be leaned up against the tree. As an excuse, I grabbed my water bottle and slowly trailed away from my safe haven - the tree and towards them . Towards her.  Bottle in hand, calmly sipping. Somehow, I’d managed to calm myself in seconds and return to my natural tone as opposed to my panicked, crimson face from minutes, if not seconds, prior.

“Oh, phew-” Scrooge huffed in relief when he saw me, yet I saw the anxiety stifling his eyes as I came closer and stood forth from them both. I ensured to angle myself slightly towards Scrooge as opposed to Belle, knowing she’d notice something small like that from my very brief meetings with her.

I think about here is where I should elaborate on why I already don’t like Belle. We’d previously interacted and met through another friend, who happens to be Robert. Well, Bob. Bob Cratchit. Scrooge knows him, so do I. He also happens to be friends with Belle, quite close friends I believe as he refers to Belle as his “ best friend ”. At this point, I hadn’t asked her personally of their status - so I just believed them to be best friends. Probably in a similar way to how me and Scrooge are, I should hope so at least. If they were as attached as him and I, she would’ve never managed to scoop Scrooge up and away from me. Sneaky, sly rodent. That is all I saw of her. Her perfect little blonde curls, lightly curled eyelashes and perfectly circular frames were all omitted in my mind. I just saw a conniving, disturbing smirk on her face. I haven't a clue as to why Scrooge was blind to it and how he let her pretty, perfect facade win over him.

What I know of Belle is small, but specific. Specific enough for me to notice, but not specific enough for Scrooge to. Here’s what I’ve gathered from my two to three conversations with her. She’s particular and poised. Could be chalked up as OCD or some kind of excuse like that - but it’s more of a public image thing than a compulsion. She seems to do it to seem more organised than she actually is and to make a good image. She notices small things and details, picks up on them and stores them away for later. Then, she remembers that and keeps it locked up in the back of her mind until she finds a way to use it as evidence against or for something. Once she was having a dispute, the topic of which I did not care to remember, with a male classmate, of whose name I did not care to remember, and she brought up a very particular instance in which he winked in her direction whilst walking past her. This incident had happened years prior to the dispute - to the point where the legitimacy of it had to be questioned because even the man himself didn’t remember that. I knew for a fact she was already picking up things about me. Her eyes scanned and scoured me like a machine, sending a shrill of discomfort and unease through my entire body.

My least favourite quality of hers though was her very clear eye for Scrooge. I’d made loose threats to her about leaving him alone in my brief interactions with her, but she’s clearly made it a quest to challenge me. In a way, I admired her determination - but I despised her dedication to the bit. Yet I can’t blame her too much for that, because I completely understand why she’s interested in him. Of course I’d be the one to say this, but he is fairly attractive. He’s got a slim, medium height figure, but I’m sure that if he made going to the gym a habit - he’d quickly acquire a more structured build. His eyes are a soft, welcoming shade of hazel, just like his hair which went from flakey and dry as a child to full of life and shine as a teenager. But of course, his looks aren’t what I admire about him, though they do play a good, fair part in it.

Scrooge stood in between me and Belle. We stared each other down like it was a competition as his gaze swapped between us awkwardly. Her eyes were quite large and round, with double lidded eyelids and thick lashes that just made them seem bigger. Whilst mine were narrow and slim, still double lidded - but not round and large in the slightest. Not once did her eyelid twitch, her blue gaze fixed on me. My dark brown gaze fixed on hers. In my peripheral, I could see Scrooge cringe with how increasingly awkward this was getting.

“So.. Marley. I’m sure you know but, this is Belle-” He shuffled to her side and pushed her slightly forward, she moved like a stone statue towards me with hardly any movement.

“Mhm. I would say nice to meet you, but I’m afraid it’s unnecessary.” I kicked off and finally blinked, not because my eyes were drying up from the staring but because the discomfort was really beginning to knock into me and continuing to stare felt like torture to my soul as opposed to body.

“How polite.” Her reply was just as stone cold as her. I could almost feel Scrooge’s anxiety in that moment just by looking at his clenched, awkward teeth. Thankfully, a somewhat irritating but familiar scream saved him.

“SCROOGE!! COME HERE!!” The voice of Bob came from across the yard, beckoning Scrooge to come, of which he did and said he’d ‘be right back!’. Leaving me and Belle face to face, alone.

“You’re pissed.” She began, a soft smirk building on her face.

“Of course not.” A lie? Yes. A believable one? No. But it was what I said in reply, with a smile as genuine as possible - though it probably more resembled a serial killer grin.

“What? You’ve threatened my reputation against me just to.. not keep your threat? I thought you were a man of your word.” Belle scoffed and rolled her eyes, as if disappointed that I wasn’t staying consistent on what I had told her weeks prior to this in a jealous, outrageous fit. I’d threatened everything I knew she valued like reputation and friends - saying I’d have them all disappear if she didn’t leave Scrooge. That didn’t exactly come to fruition..

“I simply cannot be bothered to do all that for a two week fling.” I fapped my hand at her dismissively, pleased when she began to grow red with rage.

“Two week fling? Is that what you think this’ll be?” She scoffed even harder, an offended scoff this time.

“Trust me. I know Scrooge better than I know myself. You’ll be together for.. max a month and then he’ll call it off.” Watching the sly confidence wash off her and flow into me, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing under my breath. Whatever it was in that moment that gave me that confidence, it felt like power.

“I’d like to say you’re sorely mistaken, Marley.” After a short second of regaining composure, Belle managed to retain some of her fleeting bravado before it all melted away in the heat. Whether that be the heat of the moment or the literal heat, though there was a mild chill in the air despite the humidity.

“We’ll see about that. Now play the part and don’t make this uncomfortable for him.” I replied with an even deeper smirk - just in time for Scrooge to come back with a renewed attitude. She too must’ve had one from those words of mine, as a smile now fixed itself on her face, pretending friendliness had been established.

“So.. As I was saying-” Scrooge cleared his throat, looking me up and down briefly before turning to Belle.

“Can you guys maybe.. try to get along? I know you don’t really like each other-” He began, but Belle interrupted with suave.

“We already have, we’ve apologised for the past and this’ll be a new start. Hm, Marley?” Now she turned to me, tossing a blonde curl back and away from her powdered face.

“Mhm.” I was taking my own advice, playing the part. At first, it felt wrong to lie to Scrooge and deceive him (even if he deceived me first) - but then that little cheery smile that followed sent a familiar, tingly warmth through me. The warmth I’d feel whenever he’d move closer to me in class, when he’d hold my hand or touch me. It felt like a hug, even if only his finger was grazing me. It was a feeling I couldn’t give up. He was that feeling. He was what I couldn’t give up, so I had to play my part and Belle had to play hers. We just had to hope that the roles would work together well enough to appear genuine and seamless, when in reality it was fabricated and unfinished. 

“Oh, really-?” A suspicious brow rose on his face, but I managed to force a smile out of myself genuine enough to convince him. His smile widened and my once fake grin became one of truth.

“I really thought there’d be some.. hassle or tension between you guys. But I’m glad there isn’t!” He clapped his hands together and jittered, not aware that me and Belle were staring each other down again. Well, that was until my gaze was caught off guard by Scrooge’s hand creeping down and interlocking with Belle’s. I kept my smile as straight as possible, but inside of me there was a burning, vehement flame. It lapped repetitively over itself and burned away at my flesh, licking away at the wounds and deepening them like bedsores. That oh so familiar taste of bile rose up in my throat again, my fingers pressing into my palms to form tight fists. I could just swing my hand at Belle and give her the same treatment that I gave to Rebecca. But I wasn’t going to do that. I was going to keep my composure for as long as possible, until I had the privacy and space to let it out of myself without his or her watchful eye. I also refrained from hurting her or having any thoughts of hurting her. Not because I didn’t want to cause her harm, but because I knew that if I did anything to her - Scrooge would be the one hurt.

And he is my priority.

Chapter Text

February 14th - May 15th 2020

The following three months made a sound that resembled crickets. Well, at least in Marley’s ears. As Scrooge hopped between friend group and friend group, introducing himself to a plethora of new faces with Belle at his side - Marley stayed behind. Remained where he was before, unmoving and unchanged. Watching from a fair distance as Scrooge faded away. Slowly, but surely. It began mildly with missing text messages, then it deepened and further hollowed into Marley’s heart as his Friday visits to Scrooge’s house stopped. His space in Scrooge’s room now filled by Belle. The miniscule thought of her head lying on the pillow he had been sleeping on for years. Her body curled in the sheets he knew by texture, by smell. Her lungs exclusively intaking air that had been recycled through Scrooge’s diaphragm. It made him sick . At first, emotionally. But then, physically.

He attended school, hoping things would get better - but they got worse , so his attendance was quick to plummet. He had no desire or reason to go to school anymore without Scrooge. Most of his teachers uploaded their lessons online after teaching so that students could refer back to them, but what Marley did was just learn from them and teach himself whatever he had missed. It hadn’t been much, some recap on electromagnetic waves, vectors and quadratics. All things that Marley found fairly tolerable in terms of ease. Well, as far as he was aware. The last time he checked the lessons was two months ago. Though most of his time off, he’d spend rotting in his bed or floor. With his crimson curtains drawn, casting an ominous red glow around the room, lights permanently off, pictures of him and Scrooge (or just Scrooge) stored away in a dark cabinet by his bedside and clothes, papers and blankets draped wherever. His wooden floor, once spotless, now littered with miscellaneous articles of clothing or comfort. Things got lost easily, but not once could he find the motivation to look for them. Lost items included his precious earbuds, his left shoe and his wide tooth comb. He’d even lost his phone, lacking so much motivation and care that he never got up to try to find it, despite it being his best way of communicating with Scrooge. He refused to believe Scrooge cared about him anymore, so Marley doubted he would message or call. Maybe not sitting on the phone, constantly waiting for a message that’ll never come is a healthy approach. Though none of this was healthy, he had surrounded himself with filth. For the most part, he was left alone. Valentina came in once but gagged and left right after seeing the mess, his stepfather Kamal came in, but Marley refused to let him stay and screamed him out of the room. When he refused, Marley attempted to attack him with a discarded knife from a meal he’d been brought, but never thought to touch. His mother Avani had come in a few times, but she hadn’t done much but lightly talked to him - knowing exactly why he was behaving like this. But she’d never have the heart to tell..

After almost his third month of isolation, Avani decided enough was enough. She pushed her way in, the door getting stuck beneath piles of clothes and random pillows as she opened it.

“Jake- I cannot tolerate this for much longer.” Her voice was stern and assertive, but Marley didn’t move an inch. His stature was curled and stationary, lodged beneath his sheets firmly. It had been months of this behaviour, and she had been forcing herself to excuse it as a ‘mental break’. School was starting to demand answers. She wanted answers.

“Jake!” Avani trod through the piles, eventually reaching Marley and attempting to pull the covers off his body. His arms refused, gripping onto the sheets as if for dear life.

“Leave me alone, Ma-” His voice was cold and lacked any infliction. All monotone, as if it had left the mouth of a robot. A squeaky shuffle followed his speech as he turned towards the wall his bed was against in refusal to face his mother.

“No, this isn’t normal - You haven’t been to school in months and all you’ve been doing is rotting here like a carcass.. What has made you so suddenly.. useless ? Please, I beg to know-” A nudge came Marley’s way, rocking his shoulder slightly but aside from that - having no impact.

“I don’t give a fuck, I want to be alone. Why do you care about me being useless? It’s not like I was of much use in the first place. All I did was rinse out the leftovers from the fridge and run up your water bill.” Another reply in monotone, yet with a scratchier undertone of voice snook between the lines.

“I just want you to tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t eaten or even left your room in days. I’m your mother, I’m worried for my son.” Avani’s eyes briefly shifted towards a plate of pancakes she had made Marley two mornings ago in hope he would finally eat, from fluffy and sweet to flat and dark, though she couldn’t see them very well.

“What do you not understand about “I want to be alone!?” LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” With sudden energy, Marley rose from his bed briefly to look at his mother, who he could hardly see in this light - but could still make out her figure. But she could see him. His usually neat and tidy curls had loosened and began to melt into one another like locs or dreads. They’d also loosened so much that his hair appeared longer and the ends were brushing his shoulders. The shirt he wore was oversized with a collar that had been cut off manually. Yet the cut looked so ragged and shabby that Avani wouldn’t have been surprised if Marley had torn the collar off as opposed to cutting it. His arms were visibly thinner from his refusal to eat, his skin husky and gray as opposed to toned and bronzed like usual.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out and she instead sighed with furrowed brows. Digging her phone out her back pocket, her feet carried her out of the room and her fingers skid across the screen - calling a number she had almost memorised by now. Eleven numbers, ending in 128. Contact name set as “ Nigel F ”. Lightly hesitating as she ensured the door was shut, Avani’s finger firmly pressed the green telephone button. A mild ringing noise coming from the speaker before a bleep and a “Hello?” from the other line.

Speech wasn’t necessary, all she had to do was sigh into the speaker and walk away from Marley’s bedroom door - hoping he wasn’t listening. But she was a fool to believe he wouldn’t.

“He isn’t any better.. Matter of fact, he’s worse.” Eventually having built up the courage to speak - Avani began.

“Oh dear.. Is it really that bad?” Nigel’s voice came from a small speaker in the phone, so Marley couldn’t hear it through the wall - but he could hear his mother well enough to pick up on the conversation and make it somewhat make sense by filling in the gaps in his mind.

“He still doesn’t eat, It’s a mess in there, he refuses to turn any lights on or even get up. He’s thin as bones..” A small quiver came with that, one she’s managed to conceal in Marley’s presence for weeks and weeks. Her weakness was a sign of her giving up on him.

“Do you have any idea why or still no?” Now Claire kicked in, because a higher pitched voice sounded from the speaker.

“I think I know - I wanted to ask about Scrooge and why he and Marley don’t talk anymore. Is he home?” Marley’s ears perked. He’d completely forgotten the sound of Scrooge’s name, having only repeated it to himself in his head or through hushed whispers.

“Oh. Yeah, I can go ask. Hold on…” A soft knock came from the speaker as Nigel placed the phone down and muted his microphone. Avani paced back and forth in the hallway, waiting for the verdict. Though he could hardly hear - Marley was as invested as her, having sat up and pressed himself against the wall for precision.

“Okay, I’m back. Sorry.” Nigel picked the phone back up. “Scrooge got a girlfriend recently, and they’ve been spending a lot of time together. We asked about Jacob, but Scrooge said he’s not been responding to his messages or coming to school at all. It’s really worrying him and he’s seriously weighed down by it. Like, seriously weighed down. We had this whole talk about how he thinks it’s his fault. It was horrible to listen to, I can’t decide who to feel worse for..”

“He’s got a girlfriend? Well that’s news, I wonder if Jake knows-” Tapping her chin, Avani approached Marley’s door.

“He does. Apparently it didn’t make him very happy and Scrooge thinks that’s why he’s ignoring him.” Claire butted in and sighed from the other end, sounding upset. “I really thought them two were a good pair, they were really good friends to each other. I hope this is just a setback, not the end.”

“Yeah.. Well, thank you. I’ll go ask him. But uh.. Can I just ask you something before I go?” Avani’s voice became reduced to a whisper, forcing ultimate concentration from Marley in the other room

“Of course, go ahead!” Jovially, Nigel responded - not quite sensing the tension.

“Uh.. Do you have any therapist recommendations..? I’ve been thinking of taking him to one-” Avani began, but Nigel cut in.

“I wouldn’t recommend that at all. It took years for Scrooge to adjust to his therapist, and they still don't get along.. I don’t think with Marley it would be any easier. Maybe once he’s a bit better, but for now - no. He’s much too vulnerable and damaged for that right now.” Now his voice was resolute and serious. Rare for a man so full of joy and activity.

“I see.. Thank you anyways.” Avani finished off, hanging up shortly after and tugging on Marley’s door handle. Right before she came in, he slammed himself back down on the bed and curled up in the same position as before.

“Jake.. Where's your phone?” That was Avani’s first question, which had Marley raise his brow.

“Why do you want it?” He actually responded instantly, which had become rare for him.

“Where is it?” Her question persisted, needing an answer.

“I don’t fucking know man, I lost it forever ago. Why the fuck do you care where it is!? What do you want?” Now Marley’s anger began to rile up, losing patience already.

She didn’t respond to any of his questions, digging through the piles of clothes on the floor, scouring through draws and cabinets, checking under his bed. Marley sat up, insanely confused and agitated.

“What the fuck are you loo-” He began, but Avani chucked a phone his way. It landed near his foot on the bed. His phone. The screen was dusty and slightly more cracked than before, but it flashed on as Marley’s face neared it.

“Check your phone.” Avani ordered, Marley silently obeyed in light confusion. He stared at the screen. Seventy five unread messages from Scrooge. The most recent one having been from today. Only minutes ago..

***

A room Marley knew by heart. By smell, by just the texture of the wall, the door handle, the light. Scrooge’s room. He knew it better than his own, being able to envision it perfectly and clearly, even after not seeing it for months. That’s where Scrooge was. Yet not with Marley, but with Belle.

She leant on Scrooge’s shoulder, wrapped in a sage green blanket and one of Scrooge’s arms. He sat stone cold, staring at his phone screen and checking the time obsessively.

“Baby-” Belle began, instantly drawing Scrooge’s attention away from the screen

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m doing it again.” He put it back down on the bed, curling his other arm around her and adjusting the blanket as she sat up slightly

“No no It’s fine, I just wanted to ask something.” Her voice became mellow, Scrooge raising a brow

“Go ahead, now you’ve got me curious.” He tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite force out something genuine.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Marley..?” The question asked by Belle instantly silenced Scrooge. “Sorry that- that was too direct, wasn’t it?”

She had her second question answered simply through action, as Scrooge rose and let go of her. He moved from the corner of the bed to the edge.

“I’m sorry-” Belle’s apologies began, but Scrooge hushed her halfway.

“It’s fine, I get it.. I don’t like to think there's something wrong with him. He’s just bad at.. emotional regulation. I don’t know, but it’s not right to just excuse that as ‘wrong’ . It just feels so mean when he’s probably having a really hard time.” Scrooge sighed heartily, Belle crawling up and lying a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Shortly after, a light knock at the door startled them followed by the creak of the door opening. It was Nigel, holding a phone in his hand.

“Hey guys.. Uh, sorry to disturb you guys but - Can I talk to you, Son?” Nigel sounded serious and stern - he was quite a sarcastic and jolly man, so this was unusual.

“Yeah, sure.” Scrooge got up from his bed, Belle’s hand slipping off his shoulder and landing on the base of the mattress, centimeters away from his phone.

The door shut lightly behind Scrooge as he leaned on the wall with furrowed brows, he could just sense the tension radiating off of Nigel and he could clearly see the name “Avani” on his phone. His microphone was muted, but he was still on a call with her. Scrooge knew that name all too well, Marley’s mother.

“Scrooge I hope I can ask you about this and it isn’t too touchy, but what happened between you and Marley?” Putting the phone down on a nearby shelf, Nigel began to wring his hands together anxiously. He was met with a sigh.

“I.. I don’t know.. I started dating Belle and he just sort of disappeared. He hasn’t messaged me in weeks or responded to anything I’ve asked him and he hasn’t been coming to school. The last time I saw him was back in February. I’m.. honestly really worried about him because I know what he’s like and he can’t be up to anything good..” A light sniffle came between each breath, Nigel stopping his fiddling and bringing Scrooge in for a hug.

The hug lasted a good while, Scrooge weeping lightly into his father’s chest - eventually rising with sodden, lightly bloodshot eyes. Nigel kept his hands on Scrooge’s shoulders for reassurement.

“I don’t exactly know if this is what you wanna hear right now, but he isn’t doing great.. Apparently he’s locked himself in his room and refuses to leave his bed. Avani can’t get him out because he’s violent whenever she tries.” He watched as the light in Scrooge’s eyes diminished, tears welling up in them again.

“That.. that sounds like him..” Scrooge sniffled dramatically after a break, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “That’s just horrible..”

“I’m sorry, Scrooge-” Nigel apologised, but Scrooge only stared at him in confusion

“Why..? Why are you sorry, Dad? None of this is your fault, it’s all mine. I’ve been leaving him out and choosing Belle instead.. He probably hates me now..” An even more dramatic snort left Scrooge as more tears streamed down his face.

“Don’t say that, Son. That isn’t true. He’s just having a hard time, none of it is your fault. Think about it. You’ve been friends for eight years and have never been separated until now, he just needs to adjust. He doesn’t hate you, you know he never could.”

“But he never ignores me, this is so unlike him. I just have to have done something to upset him and it’s been hollowing me out for months.” Another break was required for a breath.

“I did this, Dad. He’s like this because he’s alone and I’m not there with him, like I should be.” Scrooge felt immediate guilt, imagining the state Marley is probably in. Envisioning the mess he probably lives in and how badly he wants to fix it, but cannot physically bring himself to. It dug and dug further and deeper into his soul, harrowing out any happiness he had left - of which had been diminishing over the past three months either way.

“Listen.. I’ll tell Avani and maybe she’ll be able to do something about it. Don’t weigh yourself down over it. Okay?” Nigel brought Scrooge in for another hug, letting him dry his eyes and take a few deep breaths before going back to Belle.

“Just try to message him again, he might respond this time.” He left Scrooge with that advice, pushing the door open for him and letting Scrooge shut it. His entrance instantly captured Belle’s attention. She noticed the tears and redness in his eyes, but refused to comment and only watched as Scrooge picked up his phone and did the exact same thing he had been consecutively doing for the past three months. Message Marley, wait on a response, not receive one and slam his phone down aggressively before weeping from frustration.

“Hey hey.. It’s alright, Scrooge. He’ll respond eventually-” Belle’s soft hand gently rubbed Scrooge’s back reassuringly, watching as he sunk his face into his hands. The phone on his lap, sitting still. The same sage green blanket draped over Scrooge’s back as Belle dragged it over, still rubbing.

Until a buzz silenced his weeping.

Scrooge’s hands almost instantly flung to the phone, picking it up and checking his screen immediately. The light, hope, joy and whimsy in his usual gaze returned instantly at the sight. A long awaited message from Marley. His fingers couldn’t possibly have pressed it faster, reading it at over a hundred words per minute, despite it being only a few words long.

“I’m so sorry Scrooge. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Marley began typing again, Scrooge’s eyes glued to the screen.

“I’m not doing all that well right now. I’m sorry, I swear I am.”

Both messages contained an apology. It made Scrooge’s heart ache - he was never expecting an apology from Marley for this. Matter of fact, Scrooge felt as if he was the one who needed to apologise.

His fingers scuttered across the keys at lightspeed, typing a longer message.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be the one apologising. I completely left you out and I never wanted to make you feel this way because of me.”

“Please, can we see each other tomorrow or whenever you can?

Scrooge’s anxiety was on a constant rise. His legs began to quiver and he fiddled with his arms whilst waiting. Belle could do nothing but keep a hand on his shoulder, praying for him to realise that she’s still there.

“I need time to get myself together again. How about on Tuesday?”

It wasn’t like Marley to push anything back, but his situation must’ve been seriously dire if it was anything like what Scrooge was imagining. It must’ve been so serious that he needed an extra three days to prepare before the meeting. The day was Friday, the last day of Spring term before a two week break.

“Sure, I’ll see you then.”

“Take your time getting better please.”

He followed with a short response, for he didn’t have much else to say. Everything he wanted to know would have to be conveyed through speech on the day. Belle had been watching their texts the entire time. She sighed audibly when Scrooge finally put this phone down.

“So I guess our café date is cancelled?” Belle bit her lip anxiously as Scrooge turned to her with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh I'm so sorry-  I forgot.. He just suggested Tuesday so I thought that’d be the only date he was available.” Scrooge took her hands in apology, interlocking their fingers.

She forced a light smile, clearly upset by the date change. But she cleared her throat and continued

“It’s fine, It’s Marley. You haven’t seen each other in months, it’s only right you finally reconnect. I can just see how miserable you are without him.” Now, her smile felt more genuine. She did care for Scrooge and Marley’s friendship and she did want them to stay friends - good ones at that, but she was slightly ticked off by how dependent they were on one another. Or at least how badly Marley spiralled without Scrooge.

Right after saying that, Belle checked her watch for the time. Her eyes softly widened in alarm.

“Shit, it’s seven- My mum’s probably gonna be here soon.” She rose from the bed and began gathering her things. Scrooge stood with her, helping her pack some of the smaller, more miscellaneous things she always forgot. Hair ties, lipgloss and small perfume vials were the most common culprits. The largest thing she’s left at Scrooge’s was a flower shaped hairclip.

He scoured and searched his entire bed to make sure nothing was left. Anything he found, he slid into the small tote bag she brought with her. After his search, he hung the bag on her shoulder and leaned in for a tight hug and a kiss.

“I’ll try rescheduling our date, maybe on Thursday? Scrooge kept his hands on her shoulders as she shrugged.

“I’ll have to see when I’m not studying. We have some exams after Spring break..” A light sigh escaped her at the thought of exams.

“Ah, alright. Well, just message me when you can?” He followed Belle’s tail as she trailed downstairs and slid her shoes on.

“Mhm” She nodded, grabbing her coat off the hook and leaning in to kiss Scrooge’s cheek “Gotta go, I’ll see you.. well, whenever.”

“Bye, love you!” Scrooge waved as she stepped out and shut the door behind her, flapping her hand in a wave back..

*** 

Marley stared at his phone screen in fascination, yet guilt.

I ignored him for months.. I probably ran him up the fucking wall..

“So.. Jake? What did he say?” Avani sat beside Marley on his bed, watching his fingers scutter silently.

“He wants to see me. He said he’s sorry.” Marley responded plainly whilst typing.

“What is he sorry for?” She was slightly confused, not entirely aware of why Scrooge would be apologising or what even happened between the two.

“For leaving me out or something. Whatever, who cares. The point is, he wants to see me.” For the first time in months, Marley pushed out a smile, even if it was only the shadow of one as opposed to a true one.

“Well, that’s good isn’t it! He wants to see you, he misses you!” One of Avani’s hands met Marley’s shoulder, but she considered lifting it as she felt his chest rise and deplete rapidly. She was also discomforted by the cold rigidness of his once plump and tended to skin.

He stared at the screen, hyperventilating as his smile deepened and widened. His eyes, of which had been plagued with a cold, bitter sheen suddenly lit up like stars. A part of Avani was happy to see him finally happy - but something about it felt so off, she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Oh Scrooge.. I knew you’d come back to me. I could never stay mad at you..

A sudden jolt of happiness surged through Marley, forcing him to rise from his bed.

“Okay okay.. I need to shower, clean, take all these plates down..” He mumbled to himself, starting to scour through his messy shelves and floor. Mainly, he was searching for hygiene products. Most of them he kept in the bathroom, but some of his gels and colognes he kept in his room - mainly to prevent his little sister Ziana from messing about with them and wasting all the product.

Avani watched in gentle confusion. Her son, who had been depressed and bedridden for three months, had suddenly risen and was scurrying about his room in inexplicable joy and energy - all because.. Scrooge wants to see him. She could’ve been sure she’s never seen her son so active and alive. Or perhaps her mind was fogged from staring at a dusty gray corpse as opposed to what she remembered Marley to be for months.

“You’re.. Very happy all of a sudden.” She cleared her throat and forced a smile, Marley continuing to hop about his room and grab stuff.

“I’ll be a while, probably..” Marley responded with a grin, hardly a response because it was not related to what she said whatsoever. Grabbing two towels from his dresser, He stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

The door adjacent to Marley’s opened, Valentina’s head popping from the gap. Her hair was tied in two messy, spikey pigtails. The hot pink and beige highlights she’d given herself about a month ago had already started to fade from the amount of straightening Val put her hair through and from how often she washed it. Avani discouraged her from straightening her natural curls, but she simply refused as curls were too high maintenance - proved by Marley, who spent hours on his coils. Well, used to. He was very attentive in terms of his looks, but that had fallen in recent times.

“God.. what the fuck was that?” She rubbed her left eye with a bejewelled hand, noticing Marley’s door was open and Avani was slowly stepping out.

“Holy fuck.. Does he seriously live in that much of a shithole?! He cannot be alright..” Val’s voice reduced itself into a whisper, bending further forward for a deeper look. All she could see was piles of clothes, empty plates and lack of light. It resembled a dumpster more than a bedroom.

“He left the room.” Avani shut the door behind her, Valentina’s jaw dropping.

“For real? He actually left?” Now, she fully emerged. Wearing a loose, off the shoulder shirt with a Slipknot graphic and a pair of jorts.

“Yeah.. Three months of depression all mystically cured because Scrooge said he wanted to see him. That boy is mad over him..” Terrible confusion plagued Avani. Of course, she was happy her son was alright - but she simply couldn’t understand. Her back hit the wall and she slumped to the floor.

“Pft, you think he’s gay?” Valentina scoffed, but only saw a look of upset on her mother’s face.

“I thought you were begging him out of there, are you not happy?” She shut her door behind her, crouching down beside Avani

“I don’t know how I feel, because I feel like I’ve seen this before..” A gentle flinch came from Avani as the shower water began to run, the boiler buzzing downstairs.

“What..?” With a raised brow, Valentina lowered her squat and sat down on the floor in the hallway.

“He-.. No, this just reminds me too much of your father..” Avani had to be careful with her words, swapping “He” for “this” for she refused to associate her son with the fiend that unfortunately was his father.

“I’m still not following Ma..” Her daughter’s brows shrivelled.

The mother hesitated, eyes glancing at the bathroom door. A soft, low humming coming from beneath. The deep voice of her eldest son. The son she spoke of now, in hushed whispers.

“Let’s go to your room, Val.” She rose and approached her daughter’s door, Valentina followed and opened the door for her, letting her in.

“Ma can you just please tell me what you’re talking about? You’re actually worrying me and making me think something’s wrong with Jay.” She would refuse to admit it, but Valentina did care for and did love Marley. Even if she called him the nickname he hated, even if she taunted him and they fought. He was, even if he was a whole foot taller, her little brother nevertheless.

“I’ve never told you this before. And you must swear to me that you won’t tell Kamal or any of your siblings, especially Jacob.” Avani’s hands lie softly on Valentina’s shoulders, shaking them gently with urgency.

Valentina gave a soft response, simply nodding and whispering..

“I swear , Ma.”

Avani moved back and placed herself on the edge of Valentina’s bed. Sighing heartily before beginning..

Chapter Text

With freshly washed, damp curls and lusciously toned, smooth skin - Marley placed a foot out of the bathroom and into the hallway. He had a small towel draped over his shoulder and a handful of small gel bottles crammed between his fingers. As for clothes, he wore a simple black shirt and shorts he grabbed in a rush. Surprisingly enough, he looked perfectly put together - especially after three months of rotting. Though it must be said, he was visibility thinner and still possessed somewhat visible eyebags and a light sheen of gray over his skin purely from malnutrition.

He made his way into his room - or what Valentina called a shithole - whilst squeezing some of the moisture out of his hair with the towel. Right as he reached his elbow over to push the door handle down, as his hands were full, Valentina’s door swung open with a creak at his left. Marley could only stare at her silently, for they hadn’t spoken in months. He had not an idea of how to start a conversation anymore - his social battery had completely drained.

“Damn, not even a hello?” She crossed her arms after an extended silence and leaned on her painted doorframe.

“Sorry, have we met before? You look familiar..” Marley joked for the first time in months - drawing out a husky laugh from his sister. It caused his brow to rise, for he had fully expected her to have scoffed and stormed off or slammed her door. But she stayed put, giggling into her hand.

“Well that’s more like the Jay I know, not the one who rots in his room over.. whatever it was..” The remark that followed only confused Marley more. His initial reaction was to be agitated at the hearing of that repulsive nickname Val kept calling him - but another part of him was confused at the lack of a snarky or rude remark.

“Alright Val - What do you want?” His shoulders fell and expression dropped with it.

“I don’t want anything!” She held her hands up in dismissal, briefly. “Do you always think I want something off of you when I’m being nice? You’re my brother and you’re clearly going through some shit. I do care, you know?” Val came up closer, lightly shutting her door behind her. That same, confused expression remained etched on Marley’s face. “I’m gonna help you clean that mess. So decide now: are you going to look at me like your shit don’t stink or let me help you clean that pit of death you got in there?” She knocked at Marley’s door lightly with her finger, the chunky rings she was wearing jingling with each tap of her joint.

Silently, Marley shuffled to the side and gave Valentina room to reach over and grip the door handle.

“I just will tell you this - it’s probably worse than you think.” Marley knelt down slightly and whispered with an anxious nod.

“Oh come on don’t be dram..a..tic..” She rolled her eyes and pushed the door open, noticing an issue before even stepping in - the door was difficult to open, as if jammed by something. Her theory was correct, as when she managed to push the door open to fit through she found a colossal pile of clothes at the base of the door.

“Oh.. my.. fuck..” Though Valentina had seen fragments of Marley’s room before and stepped into this mess once - she came in during the much earlier stages and hadn’t come in since.

“Told you. It’s bad..” Marley coughed lightly as he stepped in, disgusted by the mess he made.

“How did you just.. live here for months?! This is so gross, Jay-” Her fingers formed a pinch over her nose. The only thing she could smell was the damp, musty air - made of sweat, tears and moulding food.

“You said you were gonna help me clean it. You put yourself up for this, Val” Draping the towel over his radiator, Marley placed down his gels and began picking things up. He began with clothes, grabbing piles and venturing briefly into the hallway to shove them in the washing basket that stood facing his door.

“God, can I get some gloves at least?” She responded squeakily, her nose still clogged by her fingers.

“Go ask Ma, I forgot gloves existed for three months. But if I had to hazard a guess, they’re probably in the bathroom.” He proceeded picking up clothes without even bothering to check what they were. Hoodies, shirts, joggers, blankets - didn’t matter. Whatever was fabric went in the basket.

“Eugh..” Trodding into the bathroom, Valentina scoured the cabinets for gloves. She was eventually successful in her quest, having found a full box and returning into the room.

“Put a pair on, I beg you, Jay” Waving a pair of blue gloves at Marley, Valentina used her teeth to tighten her own around her wrists.

“Stop calling me that gay ass name and I’ll consider it.” He scoffed, declining her offer at first.

“What am I supposed to call you then? Jacob is way too formal sounding, Ma calls you Jake but I know you don’t like that, you don’t like Jay.. what do you like being called?”

“Well-” Marley stopped gathering clothes for a second, thinking deeply but not for long.

“Scrooge just calls me Marley, or Mar if he’s feeling lazy.”

“I’m not calling you by our surname.” Valentina’s refusal was instant. She considered saying ‘Dad’s surname’ instead of ‘our’, but realised that maybe it wasn’t right to say that.

“Then Mar. It’s not quite Marley, and it means “sea” in Spanish, which is nicer than fucking Jay.” His voice was bitter and harsh towards the end, he really had something out for the name Jay.

“Are you going to sit here and teach me Spanish now, Mar ?” She pulled the letters when saying “ Mar ”, watching a soft smile unfurl on her brother’s face.

“Tal vez algún día” He responded playfully in Spanish, giggling afterwards as Valentina’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I said ‘maybe one day’.” Marley had to clear the air, watching as Val nodded with sudden realisation.

“Well, will you wear these gloves “algún dia”?” Just as earlier, she waved the gloves in his face. This time, he took them from her grasp and slipped them on.

“Right, we need to actually clean this shit up..” Clapping her hands together, Valentina took a deep breath and began picking up piles of clothes, sorting through them (from pure curiosity) before jamming them into the wash basket. Marley followed in her suit, except didn’t care to check through and just shovelled up anything.

To call the room a mess was a simple understatement. Valentina would grab piles after piles of clothes and shove them in the washing basket - but still have to trudge through even more when she came back in. The scent, or more so stench, seemed to die down as the time passed - or perhaps she just got used to it. She was doing most of the work on the floor, but Marley was occupied with cleaning furniture like his many shelves and cabinets, desk and his crammed windowsill. Cleaning them was a good arm workout, considering how much grime had matted itself to the surface. Even a rough sponge and bleach didn’t quite do the job, but it did it enough and as he continued to clean, Marley picked up strength along the way and managed to scrub it off to the best of his ability. They went deep into the night, cleaning from five PM to three in the morning and still not being fully done.

“Hah.. Fuck-” Valentina keeled over and gripped her back, dropping a large, black trash bag at her feet. It was full of miscellaneous waste. Including old, tattered clothes, empty water bottles and layers of matted grime. She sucked a deep breath in through her teeth before picking the bag up again and shoving it into one of the many overflowing black bins outside their home. After the fact, she made her way back upstairs to see Marley persistently scrubbing away at the windowsill. First, with a wet rough sponge and then with a soft, damp cloth. He did this over and over until it was spotless and he could put all the items back on. The items being two pillows and a blanket.

“You sure you don’t wanna wash them first..? They look rough.” She scowled at the dirty pillows and blanket.

“Theres enough going in there already, it’d take at least six washes to get all the clothes over with, let alone these.” Marley waved the pillows about and shrugged.

“I’ll wash them first, pass them over - it’ll take half an hour max.” Sticking her arms out, Valentina waited for Marley to drop the pillows in her hands.

“Well, if you insist.” He complied, giving her the two pillows and blanket. A light stench coming off of them, but she’d gotten used to it.

“Alright, be right back.” She made her way out the room and into the washing room where the washing machine and dryer were. Marley stayed in his room, observing its new clean look - which he hadn’t witnessed in months. He instinctively dropped into his bed, which had been stripped of its dirty sheets and was a simple plain mattress. For tonight, he had planned to just wrap himself in a random blanket and a few pillows.. Which Valentina was now washing - he could hear the start of the machine.

With a hard sigh, Marley lifted his phone from the windowsill and opened his messages with Scrooge, reading over them again.

“Take your time getting better please” Sent by Scrooge. To know he cared was so sweet - but at the same time it felt so fabricated and false. It was bitter to think like that, but even more distasteful to know it. Marley hoped to never have to know it, at least leaving in delusion kept him happy..

Despite the late time - or early time depending on perspective. Scrooge’s face kept lodged in his phone screen. He, too, was re-reading the messages, having noticed Marley being online and choosing to send another message.

“You still up?” Simple question, one Scrooge asked often as Marley was somehow a night owl and an early bird at the same time. His sleep schedule was interesting to say the least, at least the sleep schedule of the Marley he knew was.

“Yeah. Cleaned my room with Val. She offered to.” Marley responded bleakly with frequent periods. Anxiously watching Scrooge type as the washing machine whirred on a low frequency.

“First time you’ve ever got along with her.” Scrooge typed out his first sentence and quickly followed it with another. 

“I thought you hated each other's guts”

Now he waited for Marley to respond which he thankfully did quickly.

“Don’t know why she’s being nice. I think Ma’ prolly told her to soften up on me. Ugh.” Alongside his message, he sighed heartily to himself. He liked the fact that Valentina was nice now - but he could just see right through it. Just like Scrooge’s sweetness, it felt fabricated. It felt false.. Just like her hot pink highlights and clumpy, mascara coated eyelashes.

“Oh. Well I'm sure she only means well, Mar.” Scrooge finished off his message with the nickname he often called Marley. The nickname he hadn’t heard come out of any mouth but his own for the past three months. Well, it came from Valentina earlier but it didn’t feel the same. Oh how he yearned to hear it from Scrooge’s mouth once more. Soon, he told himself. Soon .

“I guess.” A dry and soulless response, but Scrooge understood. He always did, somehow.

“Have you cleaned your whole room?” Scrooge quickly switched the topic, not sure how to respond to such a dry text.

“In and out man, I haven’t seen it this clean in months. It’s weird. I showered too. Haven’t seen my curls in months either.” As he sent that, Marley looked across the room and stared at his reflection in a small mirror, fixing his curls which had air dried whilst he was cleaning. Slightly frizzy, but relaxed and soft. He could just imagine how pleased Scrooge would be to see them, he liked his curls.

“Well I haven’t seen them in months either. I haven’t even seen you.” That message felt bitter - but it came from a place of care. Scrooge began typing again, stopping abruptly, then sending.

“I missed you man. I still miss you. Like, loads.”

That message. That feeling that came with it. Pure warmth and joy surged through Marley and pierced his heart. Scrooge cared. He cared enough to say it and admit it - something Marley could never do, at least directly. A hiccupy breath escaped him, the feeling that came with suppressing tears itching his eyes. He couldn’t think of a response good enough, having typed up and deleted at least ten before settling on one.

“We could meet up tomorrow instead if you want. I’m surprised I got myself together this quick. And I might’ve missed you too.” His response wasn’t exactly a response. It lightly took from the previous message - but hardly. Though it did have some of that recogniseable, endearing sarcasm. Classic Marley. Scrooge couldn’t have responded faster.

“Sure, of course. Yeah.” The response was cool and collected, at least he tried to make it seem so. But beneath his covers his legs were kicking in excitement and a bright, permanent smile was slathered across his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, what time?” Another message sent by Scrooge, rapidly after the other. Though not visible, Marley could just sense his excitement and laughed to himself.

“I’ll probably be quite early, maybe around 10 or 11. Don’t keep yourself up about it though, sleep well - alright?” Marley had to mention sleep to Scrooge - because it was nearing 4 am and he wasn’t asleep. Clearly the meetup was keeping him up  and now it’d keep him up even more. He too, was excited, of course, but he kept his cool more than Scrooge did. Evidently, as the response that followed was fuelled with even more poorly masked, yet adorable joy.

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Sleep well!” His eyes were fixed on the screen, waiting for a reply from Marley. Even the driest and most lacklustre response would do.

“Night. Don’t stay up any longer, actually go to sleep.” That was Marley’s last message before sliding his phone back up on the windowsill. Coincidentally, Valentina had come back upstairs with the pillows and blanket. Dry and warm, fresh from the dryer.

“Here, just gave them a six minute powerwash and a ten minute light dry.” She chucked them at Marley as he stuck his hands out, the blanket curling itself over his head.

“Thanks, Val. About time I get to sleep anyway.” He laid the pillows on the mattress and slid the blanket off his face, draping it over himself instead.

“Sleep? 4 is early for you.” Val scoffed lightly, making a light and harmless jab at his irregular sleeping pattern.

“Yes but I have plans tomorrow, for once. I’d rather not drop dead tired in front of Scrooge and make him think I’m massively sleep deprived. I’ll only worry him more than he already is.” The mattress squeaked as Marley slammed down on it.

Now a sigh came from Valentina. Not a light, sarcastic one like before. This one wasn’t part of a joke, and Marley instantly reacted to it. He rose.

“What?” His brow stifled and rose as she looked away.

“Val. What’s up? Spit it out.” 

“Nothing, I wanted to say something but I won’t.” Her response was cold and in monotone.

“Fucks sake, just say it. I don’t care what you have to say about me, I won’t be offended. I say worse shit about myself than anyone does of me. Say it.” A gentle eyeroll accompanied his speech as Val came away from the door, shutting it lightly and sitting on the corner of the bed.

“This’ll be really awkward, but don’t get all pushy on me for it, kay?” She was avoiding eye contact but was looking in Marley’s direction. He nodded quizzically.

“Okay..?” He mumbled out.

“Are you-” She began, taking a light breath. “Jacob, have you ever thought about your.. preferences ?” 

“What? Speak English, Val.” Marley came closer and rose up from his bed higher.

“As in like.. What you.. Like in someone?” She tried to elaborate, but only received a confused, tired look.

“Oh my god-” Valentina murmured under her breath before finally managing to spit out what she meant. “Are you gay?”

“What the fuck?” Now Marley had fully risen from his bed, sat upright in the middle. “What the fuck possessed you to ask me that?!” 

“I just wanted to ask, calm down!” With hands that motioned downwards, Val tried to calm Marley down.

“Calm down? Val, you're sitting here asking me if I’m gay. When have I ever, at all, shown signs of being gay!?” Valentina’s request to not get pushy must’ve fallen on deaf ears, because Marley was being everything she didn’t ask for. Nothing but pushy and defensive.

“Nevermind, forget it Jay-” Her body rose from the bed and began going towards the door again.

“I told you to stop calling me that, my god-!” Marley quickly grew frustrated, getting out of bed too. “What was the point of asking me that? What are you suggesting!?” 

“Because of the way you and him are.” She turned around, staring Marley dead in the face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Who is ‘him’ ?” A thousand possibilities ran through Marley’s head, but none of them made sense. He thought of every male friend he had - which was only about three. Scrooge, Bob and Jim. Jim was their six year old cousin, Bob was a friend Valentina didn’t even know and Scrooge - Well, he was the final option.

“You and Scrooge. I’ve seen you two. So has absolutely everyone. You’re touchy, you’re affectionate. You’re more like a couple than best friends.” Valentina watched as Marley’s face contorted and he burst into laughter.

“What?!” His back bent as he reeled, covering his mouth to dumb down his hiccups of laughter. Her face was stone cold and serious.

“Holy shit you’re serious. You think I’m fucking gay for Scrooge? Valentina, Please-!” Marley slapped his knee and wheezed.

“It was a serious question. Have you not even considered that?” She was slightly confused at his reaction, but she was expecting something like that.

“Have I considered being gay for my best friend who has a girlfriend? No, Val. I don’t think so” Marley’s wheezes continued as he climbed back into bed. “Jesus Val.. Turn the light off on your way out and leave me be.”

“Oh alright so I guess keeping photos of him on your wall, exclusively hanging out with him and him only, bringing him up into every conversation, calling each other nicknames, linking arms with him, hugging him, calling him and messaging him for hours on end and spending more time with him than you do at home with your family and also keeping a journal about him is all just ‘best friend’ behaviour?” As she said that last part, she pulled out a dark notepad from behind Marley’s dresser. He shot up from his bed and sprinted towards her, snatching it from her hands.

“Where the fuck did you find this?!” He flicked through it and could just tell it had been read through by her. The pages felt different and she reeked of insincerity. The texture of the cover no longer felt like one of comfort, but unfamiliarity and exposure.

“I was cleaning your room with you.. Remember?” She tilted her head and crossed her arms, watching Marley’s expression drop as he re-read his own writing. It was nothing too serious, but it was personal to Marley. A notepad he journaled in. All twenty pages, which he had written in twenty consecutive days before his three month depression, were dedicated to, or mentioned Scrooge in some capacity. Some more than others. A lot more..

Marley’s whole face went cold. Staring at the closed notepad with a cold, shineless gaze. Motionless and unmoving.

“Jacob it’s okay-” As Valentina mumbled that, Marley could feel his temperance shattering. All the bonding they had just done over hours had crumbled.

“No. None of this is ‘okay .’ You just went through something of mine when I trusted you to just come help?!” He cradled the notepad like a parent protecting a child - or a child protecting a toy, refusing to let go of it even when yelling at her.

“No, Jay. I’ve read it. It’s okay to feel this way-” Her hand neared his shoulder, but he quickly slapped it away.

“Piss off with that. You don’t understand me and you’re really bad at pretending to. You think that just being related to me gives you some kind of right of passage into my life and personal shit. It doesn’t. Get out.”

Valentina hesitated, standing still in the middle of his room.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Valentina. I was fucking stupid to think you actually gave a shit about helping me.”

She sighed, her temper now also reaching an end.

“We all do give a shit. Jay. You’re the one who doesn’t give a shit. You locked yourself in your room for three months and lived in a dumpster all because of a boy. He’s all you fucking care about nowadays and we all see it. Ma’s always worried about you and I'm the one who has to carry the burden because you’re just so goddamn incompetent and break down at the smallest inconvenience. We all want you to get help but you just refuse, and Ma won’t force you. But if I was in her shoes, I would’ve forced it long ago. He’s not good for you.”

“How would you know what’s good for me!? When have you ever made an active effort to even get along with me? All you do is slut around, we hardly talk! You don’t know shit about me!” Marley hissed back, watching Valentina recoil at his remarks.

“Slut around?! Are you seriously saying that to your own sister ?” Her eyes widened in disgust and in disbelief. She knew Marley could stoop low, but never that low - and he only went lower.

“You’re the furthest thing from a sister. You don’t care and neither does Ma. You’re all just afraid I'll turn into Dad. That’s why you care, because you don’t want another lunatic in the family.”

“Wow.. just had to throw him in there, didn’t you?” Valentina bit her lip awkwardly, unsure how to respond.

“You’re acting like I’m not right. If and when I do become a lunatic, you’re kicking me out on the streets and exiling me from the family, just like you did to him. You don’t care about me. Nobody in this fucking house does.” Marley’s tone deepened.

“Jay do you remember what he did to-” Valentina began, but Marley interrupted her

“You’re surprised I keep him close when he’s the only person in this whole fucking world who actually cares about me. He doesn’t compare me to Dad, he actually listens to me, respects my privacy and knows me. None of you fucking know me, you think you do but you don’t.”

“I don’t compare you to Dad?! When have I ever compared you to him!?” She threw her hands up in confusion.

“I hear what Ma’ says to Kamal. She thinks i’m just fucking like him and that is all I can hear, all the fucking time , Val! I hear what she says to you ! Nobody and I mean NOBODY in his house thinks of me without thinking of him first. I cannot be my own person because in your eyes, I’m only him ! I’M NOT LIKE HIM! ” Light tears began to stream down Marley’s face, still cradling the notepad.

“He’s the only person who actually knows me. Of course I treat him like a lifeline. Because he.. He is .” He softly retreated backwards and weeped into the pages, Valentina watched silently.

“Jacob this-.. This is so unhealthy-”

“You don’t know what’s healthy for me.. How the fuck would you know..?! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME! AT ALL!.. You don’t know me at all..” Now his gentle tears became hiccupy sobs, dropping onto the pages of the notepad and curling them.

She sighed heavily, grabbing the door handle and finishing off. “I can’t wait for him to leave so you can see how deranged this is.” She swung the door open and slammed the door behind her, hitting the light switch as she left. Marley was left cowering in his plain bed, the only light in his room coming from the blue moonlight and the artificial light of a phone as Marley read through his and Scrooge’s messages again - begging that he was right and she was wrong ..

Chapter Text

May 16th, 2020 - 9:35 AM

It’d be wrong to say Marley slept well that night. Though he’s already prone to tossing, turning and unpleasant sleep - the night after that argument with Valentina made it just that much harder. It wasn’t entirely about the argument, the meetup was probably also keeping him up. An emulsion of anxiety, guilt and anger washed over him - it wasn’t pretty or pleasant. It caused every inch of his body to be extremely sensitive. Anything even slightly foreign touching him like the uncut tag inside his blanket that constantly itched against his ankles or one of his curls that consistently brushed against his ear drove him up the wall and riled up his anger so high he could scream. However, he managed to keep it together and eventually fell asleep. Only to be roused by the voice that (unintentionally, only from how often he heard it) became synonymous to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. His mothers voice.

“Jake.” She began sternly, stood at his door staring as he slept. Marley didn’t move a muscle, snoring into his pillow and lightly mumbling under his breath. His mumbles were inaudible, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he was dreaming about Scrooge.

“Jake.” Clearing her throat and trying louder, Avani closed the door behind her and tried him again - to no avail.

“JAKE!” She came even closer and raised her voice, forcing Marley awake with a grunt.

“Ngh-.. God, what!?” Begrudgingly and with a mood already from being awoken so harshly, he rose slowly and rubbed his eyes.

“Your phone has been buzzing and ringing constantly for the past ten minutes. Pick it up.”

“What?” With only one eye (but an eager eye) Marley grabbed his phone and slid up to view the notifications - only to be interrupted by another call.

“No caller ID.. Ma, it’s probably just some random bastard. You could’ve just picked up and told them to fuck off for me.” As he said that, he checked the time and hung up the call. “It’s only nine, I could’ve slept like another hour, been up at half ten and been out by eleven”

“Been out? Where are you going?” Avani lay a hand on her hip and raised a brow, confused as to how he would’ve made plans so easily after three months of isolation.

“Scrooge’s. Where else would I be going? I haven’t seen man in three months” Planning to lie down and catch another hour of sleep, Marley slammed his head back down on the two pillows he slept on and rose in frustration when he heard his phone buzz again.

“For the love of-” He picked up with a sigh, his mother still standing and watching but slightly distracted by the room, observing the cleanliness which she hadn’t seen in what seemed decades.

“What the fuck do you want?!” Marley put the phone to his ear, his angered expression fading quickly into apology as the other end spoke.

“Jeez Mar it’s only me-” Robert, or Bob, spoke from the other side. Someone he also hadn’t spoken to for months. His voice almost seemed deeper - but it might’ve just been time that gave that illusion.

“Oh shit man, sorry - I thought some random was calling me over and over. I was expecting to pick up and hear about my car’s extended warranty” It was nice to know Bob cared enough to call - or just wanted to ask something. Marley bet on the latter - and hit the jackpot.

“Yeah, sorry about calling like crazy. I just wanted to ask if you’re like.. alive?” A tinge of concern came with the last word. Something Marley didn’t often hear from Bob - or maybe he just didn’t remember hearing anything from him due to the three month fog.

“I hope so, if this was hell it would lowkey suck.” He laughed and heard a soft giggle come from Bob at the other end. Avani, having realised this is a friend, placed herself down on the edge of Marley’s bed and waited for them to finish. Though she knew it might take a small while if Marley and the other end were particularly friendly - but if it wasn’t Scrooge, she knew they meant little to Marley at the end of the day. Scrooge was at the top of his priority list, even having displaced his own family..

“Uh so it’s nice you called and all but how did you get my new number?” Marley had given Bob his number before - but he’d gotten a new phone a few months ago and didn’t update Bob on that. Only Scrooge, Valentina and Marley’s parents (meaning his mother and stepfather) had his new number.

“Oh I got it from Belle who got it from Scrooge. I just wanted to like- ask if you’re good because you’ve been gone a while. Like, a while . Like, three months type while.” Bob casually mentioned Belle, but it made Marley writhe inside.

“Ohh.. right. Got it from Belle. Well, yeah. I’m fine.” He responded dryly, just waiting for the conversation to be over - mentioning Belle had ruined the whole mood immediately .

“Yeah.. nice to know you’re good! Just wanted to check. You’ll actually be coming in after spring break, right? You’ll be coming in after spring?” Bob sounded slightly panicked, breaking a soft laugh from Marley.

“Yeah man, I’ll be in after Spring. What's the panic for?” Marley’s response had a chuckle attached to it, only followed by a sigh of relief from Bob. 

“Thank fuck man, I feel like such a third wheel around Scrooge and Belle. It’s sooo awkward-” Bob mentioned Belle again and suddenly Marley wanted to hang up.

“Ah. Yeah. I can imagine.” Marley pursed his lips “Well I guess we can third wheel together when I’m back, but right now I gotta go, Bob.”

“Oh alright, See you after spring then!” With a happy sheen over his voice, Bob finished off whereas Marley just sounded perpetually annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah bye-” He hung up quickly after, sighing. No, more like grunting.

“Was that a friend?” His mother asked shortly after, if not immediately.

“Yeah. Bob. Mutual friend between me and Scrooge.” Marley didn’t mention Belle, but Avani clearly had plans of mentioning her.

“What about Belle? Who is she?” 

“Scrooge’s girlfriend..” Marley answered begrudgingly, making it very obvious he didn’t like Belle. A light eye roll came with that.

“Ah, so everything goes back to him?” Laughing lightly under her breath, Avani watched as Marley nodded.

“Yeah. He’s my best friend, so obviously it would all go back to him, Ma.” Now Marley got up, softly stretching.

“Aha.” Now she’d run out of things to say, she scoured her brain for more.. “So you’re going to Scrooge’s?” 

“Yes.. haven’t I said that already?” Slightly sarcastically and backhandedly, Marley responded.

“I was just making sure, Jake.” Again, running out. How was she finding it so hard to talk to her own son? “You cleaned your room! It’s nice to see.” Avani had to go off topic to keep it going.

“Yeah. Val helped me. Took us hours.” Again, Marley responded dryly. She was still not really getting the hint and continued to try to make conversation. “It was about time, but like all my clothes are in the washing basket so I have nothing to wear but this jumper-” He lifted up a dusty blue oversized jumper, slathered in navy, black and blue street graphics over the front and back. It wasn’t a bad look actually - one of his favourite articles of clothing purely for its texture. It was madly soft and slightly oversized. Perfect for covering his slightly exposed ribs from refusing to eat properly whilst rotting.

“Ohh, are your sheets in the wash too then?” Avani brought attention to the bare mattress. Marley nodded as he slid on a white shirt and the jumper overtop. “I can wash them for you and put them back on whilst you’re gone.”

“That’d be nice, cheers Ma.” Marley’s response was appreciative but dry. He and his mother spoke less like relatives and more like casual friends. Not even, more like those kinds of people you know enough to wave to when passing them but not enough to hang out with them or text them first thing in the morning - if at all. Acquaintances. That was the right word for it.

Digging in his dresser, Marley slid out a pair of baggy jeans from the bottom drawer. Thankfully he’d retained some sense during his rot and left his jeans untouched. His favourite jeans too. They were getting a bit old - but remained handy and comfortable.

As Marley scoured the draw, Avani got up from his bed and checked the time on her phone. 9:23

“Well I'll go start on all that washing then. Just let me know when to drop you off at Scrooge’s.” She began approaching the door, receiving a confused look from Marley

“Drop me off? I can just walk Ma” He shut the drawer with his foot, laying the jeans over his arm.

“Walk!? He lives half an hour away! You’ll be walking forever - and you walk slow.” Avani grabbed the door handle and slightly slid the door ajar. “I can drop you off Jake. It’s no bother, just let me know.”

“Alright, if you insist-” Marley wasn’t going to complain about an easier route, so he shrugged it off and let his mother walk out, shutting the door lightly behind her.

Meanwhile, Scrooge, Claire and Nigel were up and about, scouring shop shelves.

“Son..” Nigel grunted lightly whilst pushing a shopping cart full of their regular weekly shopping. Milk, Bread, cheese (but only mozzarella or parmesan - Scrooge refused to eat any other kind) and other essentials. 

“Hm?” Scrooge turned to his father briefly but quickly turned back to the shelf in front of him, squinting and checking every shelf.

“What exactly are you looking for?” He hunched over the cart slightly, raising a brow at Scrooge. Claire did the same, confused as to why they were in the nut aisle when Scrooge had never expressed a liking for any kind of nuts or nut products. 

“Cashews.” Scrooge responded plainly.

“Cashews? Darling, why do you need cashews?” Claire, with a sharp eye, spotted them immediately and picked some up off the shelf then dropped them in Scrooge’s hands.

“Mar likes cashews and he said he’s coming today-” Slightly embarrassed, Scrooge slid the cashews into the cart.

“Ohhh” Claire and Nigel said in unison, nodding slowly.

“I just thought it’d be nice to get some things he likes, I haven’t seen him in three mo-” Scrooge mumbled, getting interrupted by his mother.

“Yes yes sweetheart.. We understand. You two are like bread and butter. What else does he like?” Laying a hand on her hip, she watched as Scrooge’s embarrassed expression faded into a soft smile.

“Well uh..” He thought for a second but quickly came up with at least five more things. All in different aisles..

The shopping cart skidded and the wheels squealed as Scrooge pushed it across through all the aisles, grabbing all the items he’d thought of as Nigel and Claire followed slowly behind and gossiped.

“Well this is sweet of him.” Claire began, sliding an arm under Nigel’s and leaning in to whisper.

“It is quite sweet, he seems really excited.” Nigel whispered back, also leaning in. “You know.. I wonder what Belle thinks of this.”

“Of what? Scrooge and Marley?” She slightly chuckled in response, but Nigel seemed serious.

“Well.. I guess there’s no other way to put it. Yes - because you see how close they are. I really do wonder what Belle thinks of this.. closeness .” He slid Belle into the conversation and made Claire think. She hummed as she did.

“That’s actually a fair point.. They are so close. They link arms, constantly hang out and call, go everywhere together.. How does she cope?” Watching Scrooge scoot from aisle to aisle, Nigel and Claire slowed down even more.

“I guess she just didn’t need to cope, Marley was gone for three months.” Nigel peered into an aisle Scrooge had just exited - the tea and coffee aisle. What would he have possibly gotten from there? Did Marley have a taste for cheap, awfully strong tea? Nigel didn’t have a clue..

“Oh yeah, what did Avani have to say when you called? As in about the three months-” Claire was quite a curious woman and had become close with Avani in recent years, so she was eager to know what she said.

“She was worried. Really worried. Apparently he’s fine now and he’s got his shit together - but he was refusing to eat or leave his room for anything but the bathroom. She never sent photos, but she described his room to have the likeness of a landfill.” Nigel, slowly sped up as Scrooge scooted into another aisle further away from them.

“Oh gosh.. Bless her soul.. And Marley’s. I hope he’s alright.” Diverting into the wine aisle, Claire grabbed a medium sized bottle of Rosè and cradled it until Scrooge came back with the cart.

“I guess we’ll see later today..” Just as Nigel finished, Scrooge scooted back towards them. A plethora of random items in the corner of the cart. From cashews and bitter mint tea to apricots, cherries and protein bars.

“All stuff he likes!” Scrooge smiled whilst Nigel and Claire observed the items.

“I’m surprised that it isn’t all junk food.” Nigel nodded in approval of the cherries - being quite a fan of cherries himself.

“He likes protein stuff and going to the gym so I guess it makes sense.” As he said that, Scrooge dug three protein bars from further down in the pile.

“Ahh. Well when is he even coming?” Claire checked the time on her watch. 10:15

“He said around eleven, but he’ll probably message or call before he comes.” He also checked the time, but on his phone.

“Well we better hurry up, we still have to go to the garden centre and buy more sunflower seeds for the garden before we get home.” Nigel took the cart back from Scrooge and scuttered off towards the self checkout, Claire and Scrooge not far behind him.

The clock ticked in unison with Marley’s footsteps as he trodded downstairs, dressed in the jeans and sweater from earlier. A tote bag swung over his shoulder. Avani sat waiting for him in the living room, instantly sensing his presence the second he came downstairs. She turned and got up, sliding on her shoes in the hallway.

“What you got in the bag?” Curiously, Avani nudged Marley’s left shoulder where the totebag hung. Silently, he slid his arm inside and took out a small pack of gummy cherries.

“They’re for him” He shrugged and slid them back in his bag. Avani nodded silently and giggled, but then raised a brow

“When did you go out and get those?” She couldn’t recall Marley leaving the house at all today or recently.

“Val got them for me, shockingly enough, she went when I asked her.” Coming towards the front door, Marley pulled down the door handle and stepped out. Followed by his mother. They both loaded themselves in the car and Avani started driving while Marley sat in passenger.

The first five minutes of the ride was completely silent as Avani fiddled with the radio to try turn it on but was consistently failing. Bothered by the awkward silence himself, Marley slid his hand towards the dials and simply turned one left - flicking on the radio effortlessly.

“Ah. Thanks Jake” She cleared her throat and dialed the radio up slightly - she knew how to do that. “I’m horrible with technology.”

“Mhm.” He nodded and responded wordlessly, staring out the window.

“Well.. are you excited to see Scrooge?” Like before, Avani had to switch topics to keep Marley’s attention. She’d never found it so difficult to talk to her own son.

“Yeah. He’s probably excited too.” Marley didn’t even bother turning his head, just kept staring out into the street.

“Yeah you seem thrilled-” She mumbled, but Marley clearly heard because he finally turned his head.

“Ma, don’t.” He warned lightly.

“Don’t what? You don’t sound excited, what’s wrong?” She slowed down slightly, realising they were approaching red lights.

“Nothing is wrong, oh my god ! Why is everyone asking me that?!” Marley’s temper was already running thin, as it often did.

“Jake, breathe..” Softly, Avani lay a hand on his shoulder but he - just like he did to Valentina last night - flicked her off.

“Fucks sake, I’m fine. I don’t know why you all fucking baby me around all the time. I’m sixteen years old, let me live and stop worrying about me for no reason.” With crossed arms, he shuffled further towards the window.

“Baby you? Why are we worried?! We’re just worried because you’ve just locked yourself in your room for three months! We did everything we could to force you out and all it took was Scrooge messa-” Avani was calm and collected, but was still interrupted.

“You’re just saying the same things as her! Stop fucking bringing him into everything all the time!” Not wanting to damage the car, Marley slammed his fists into his thighs rather than the seat or anything else around him.

“Who is ‘ her’ , Jake?” Avani sped back up as the lights turned green, briefly glancing at Marley who was growing red with frustration.

“Fucking Valentina! She started a whole argument with me yesterday because she thought Scrooge was bad for me. Fucking idiot..”

“Don’t speak about your sister like that.” A light anger began to boil up in Avani, one she always had to conceal in front of Marley.

“Oh so you pick up on that but don’t bother commenting on the fact we fought? Don’t even care what we fought about or what she said? She probably snitched everything to you anyways-” He mumbled the last bit under his breath but Avani heard him well.

“What has gotten into you!? You’ve never been this spiteful and bitter-” The anger that she was containing softly faded into disappointment and upset as she realised the true lack of respect and trust her son places in her.

“I have every reason to be spiteful and bitter towards you. Valentina, you and Kamal don’t give a shit about me whatsoever. So you can stop pretending because it’s fucking boring.” Annunciating the ‘fucking’ in the sentence, Marley rolled his eyes and unbuckled his seatbelt when he saw homes he recognised slide by, knowing Scrooge’s was nearby.

In response to that, all Avani could do was sigh and respond calmly. “We’ll talk when you get back home.. Have fun, I’ll be back at five.”

“Five? Shit, at least give me until seven..” He grunted, opening the car door.

“Six.” She compromised and Marley shrugged, shutting the door and approaching Scrooge’s front door as Avani careened out the estate row and into the regular street roads.

With a deep, collected breath - Marley raised his fist to the door and knocked. Yet before he even managed to finish knocking, the door burst open and Scrooge stood at the other end.

Silence. They just stared. Neither spoke, just stared into each other's eyes unmoving. The silence didn’t last long though since only seconds after, Scrooge burst into Marley’s arms and weeped into his chest profusely. The door was still open, Marley was still outside. But Scrooge held on massively tight and continued to cry. Eventually the sound of his muffled weeping reached the living room. Nigel and Claire rose and peeked into the hallway, only to see Scrooge latched onto Marley whilst he shuffled forward and closed the door behind him. Still hugging, he managed to kick his shoes off too. One hand curled over Scrooge’s back, the other waving to the Fezziwigs as Marley awkwardly smiled and giggled.

“Scrooge.. Your parents are just standing there watching-” He whispered into Scrooge’s ear, who silently rose from Marley’s chest, peered to the side and then shot up and stood straight, smiling even more awkwardly than Marley was.

The Fezziwigs both nodded slowly and retreated back towards the living room, leaving Scrooge and Marley awkwardly smiling at each other in the hallway before both (rather than just Scrooge) leaning into a hug, digging faces in each other’s shoulders. Well, that came more from Scrooge’s side.

“I missed you so much Mar-” Scrooge muffled into Marley’s shoulder, whose arms lightly wrapped around his back and head softly parched on Scrooge’s shoulder.

“I know, I missed you too-” Marley hugged him slightly tighter, realising his grip was tightening too. The hug lasted another minute or two until Marley cleared his throat. “Right, let go or we’ll be stood here all day

With a soft chuckle, Scrooge let go and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Alright, come on - I have something for you.” He grabbed Marley’s wrist, pulling him up the stairs.

“Man you didn’t have to get me anything, I was hardly expecting a hug-” Marley began, shutting the door for Scrooge as he slid something out from under his bed and presented it to Marley with a sheepish smile.

A quite large white rattan basket absolutely filled with Marley’s favourite things. Cashews, a small beeswax candle, sultanas, protein bars, small bowls of cherries and apricots - literally everything he had ever mentioned liking to Scrooge.

He stood with his jaw slightly agape, absolutely dumbfounded.

“You went out of your way to get all this shit-?” His voice lightly quivered as Scrooge nodded, squinting and grinding his teeth lightly from how heavy the box was - surprising, considering it was mainly food. Most of the weight probably came from the thermos full of Marley’s favourite (but in Scrooge’s opinion, disgustingly bitter) peppermint tea. 

“Scrooge- that is so fucking sweet it’s making my teeth rot.” Marley took the crate from him but instantly put it down and leaned in to hug him again. Of course, it came reciprocated. They broke apart shortly after and Marley dug out the packet of gummy cherries from his totebag, presenting them to Scrooge.

“I wasn’t expecting anything, so I only brought this-” Marley watched Scrooge’s eyes light up and sparkle with joy, taking the bag with a childishly sweet smile slathered across his face.

“ Only ? Mar these are literally my favourite thing ever! Well.. aside from you-” He quickly hugged him for the fourth time and put the bag down beside the basket.

“I’ll eat them later but right now I just wanna talk and like.. Just chill.” Scrooge grabbed two pillows and chucked one towards Marley, setting his pillow on the floor and watching Marley follow suit.

With an eager expression on his face, Scrooge got comfortable on the pillow and waited for Marley to start talking. Only to be met with awkward silence.

“Go on, do you not have anything to tell me?” Scrooge’s brow rose as Marley sighed lightly.

“Well uh-..” Marley scoured his mind for something somewhat positive, he’d rather not sit here and tell Scrooge about everything going on with his family and his argument with Valentina.. God forbid. “Bob called me this morning. Like.. twenty times before I picked up, I was asleep.”

“Oh? What’d he call for?” Scrooge instantly hooked himself to Marley’s words and paid the closest attention.

“Just asking if I was alright. That’s about it.” Marley’s hands lightly skimmed through the basket, grabbing the thermos and opening it to see what was in it.

“Wait, didn't you get a new phone-?” He asked quizzically, watching Marley open the thermos and be attacked by the smell of potent peppermint from inside, but his eyes softened in relief and a soft smile appeared on his face, bringing the thermos to his mouth and lightly sipping.

“I did” Marley cleared his throat after the sip “He got my number from Belle, who got it from you.”

“Wait..” Scrooge thought for a minute before realisation struck “Ohh.. that’s why she wanted your number..” He bit his cheek awkwardly, Marley just sipped the tea again and exhaled after.

“It’s not like I mind. I was supposed to tell Bob I got a new phone anyways.” Marley shrugged.

“Well.. uh, has anything else happened?” Scrooge tried to redirect the conversation, also feeling awkward about Belle since he called off their date to meet up with Marley - only to meet up with him today and not tell Belle yet..

Marley stared into the thermos for a solid minute, considering whether he should tell Scrooge about the issues he’s been having with his sister. He decided against it.

“Nope.” He popped the P and quickly sipped the tea again to try to signal Scrooge to speak.

“Are you sure..?” Scrooge caught on his bluff.

“Yep..” Marley looked away sheepishly, focusing on the basket.

“Mar-” Now Scrooge got serious, staring blankly.

“Right, nothing else interesting happened. Just me arguing with Valentina and Ma all the time because they won’t leave me the fuck alone-” He could feel his temper riling up, but he just sipped the tea again and hoped to calm down.

“I thought you were getting along with Val?” Scrooge’s brow rose for the second time, cracking open his packet of gummy cherries and popping one in his mouth.

“Apparently fucking not because she had to start an argument last minute after an actually nice day-” Marley scoffed and capped the thermos, putting the tea down and instead grabbing one of two small bowls of peeled apricots. There happened to be a small fork beside the bowl, so he used that to spear the apricot and take a bite out of the side, narily avoiding the seed.

“What was it about?” Still curious and aiming to keep the conversation flowing, Scrooge slowed down on his consumption of the gummies and diverted his attention to Marley again - fully.

In response to that, Marley’s face grew a light shade of red and he instead focused on removing the pit of the apricot, sliding in into the bowl. He hesitated slightly, taking a deep breath. Having to make the choice between telling Scrooge the truth, lying to him or not telling him at all.

“It was nothing.” He chose the last option and sighed, but Scrooge just stared emptily with half hooded eyes. The same look he gave to him only minutes earlier.

“Marley..” He shuffled slightly closer, not noticing Marley’s breathing slightly speeding up.

“Scrooge, it doesn't matter what it was about. I argue with her everyday, it wasn’t a surprise.” He tried to shrug it off, but Scrooge remained suspicious as he relaxed his legs and watched Marley slowly continue to eat the apricot. 

“Are you sure it didn’t matter?” His head turned to the side slightly and Marley nodded in response, chewing the fruit and lying the fork back down against the bowl.

“Okay. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. I just wanted to see if I could help. You know, with everything that’s been going on with you.. I just want to know you’re okay and that you don’t have any shit weighing you down.” Now Scrooge opened up, and inside him was pure sweetness. Not even a hint of any malice or ill intention. Marley just looked at him with a smile and beady eyes.

“I’m fine Scrooge, but it is really fucking nice to know at least someone cares. Like, actually. You’re the only person who actually gives a shit.” Marley also shuffled closer, leaning his back on Scrooge’s bedframe.

“Marley don’t say that-” Scrooge began but was harshly interrupted. Interrupting was quickly becoming a habit for Marley.

“But it’s true. Nobody actually gives a shit about me whatsoever but you. Valentina just takes out her anger and insecurities on me because Dad never loved her but he did me, Ma’s just stuck in a loop of perpetually shitting herself over me becoming Dad, Kamal is only ever on Ma’s side and never cares to even try act like a dad and Ziana or Rahul are irrelevant. Both of them just see me as “mean big brother” and only come to annoy me. If they come at all..” Marley reached over and grabbed the thermos, aggressively unscrewing it before starting up again.

“You’re like the only person who bothers to sit and listen to me. Whenever I try to talk to Valentina or Ma it all just boils down to "that's just the way you are” or it boils down to you and that starts a whole other argument about you “not being good for me” and me needing to get other friends.. They just talk bullshit, they don’t even care to try help me.” He took a large sip of tea, the fragrant peppermint scent of it filling the room.

“Not being good for you?! How am I not good for you-..?” Scrooge’s voice slightly quivered, realising that Marley’s family may just hate him.

“They think we’re too attached, or that I’m too dependent on you. I’m not, right?” Marley needed confirmation, after all the talk from Valentina - he needed to be told it.

“I don’t think you’re dependent on me at all..” Scrooge squinted in slight confusion, unsure how Marley’s family could see them as co-dependent when he saw himself as quite individual. Especially with Belle around now, he’d slightly disconnected from Marley and despite having grown up with him - he’d been becoming his own person with Belle and Marley being an extension of him. Also, he was sure the Fezziwigs would disagree with Marley’s family too- having seen Scrooge in recent times and seen his independence. 

“How the fuck do they think that?”

“That’s what I’m saying! They don’t know what they’re talking about. They just say what they see from the surface but they don’t care to know me enough to see how we actually are. And they’re really wrong too because we haven’t even been talking recently, You’ve been going off with Belle so I’ve just been left alone anyways-” Marley finished off with a slightly upset tone, being easily picked up by Scrooge.

“Oh I was meaning to say man- I’m so sorry about that..” Scrooge solemnly apologised with beady eyes.

“For what?” Cluelessly, Marley turned his head to Scrooge whilst sipping the tea again.

“Leaving you out.. Like, completely ditching you for Belle.. I was just thinking about her and how to make her happy so much that I completely forgot that you were there too. It’s been eating me up for the past three months. Especially when you stopped coming to school and responding to my texts-” Scrooge felt completely responsible for Marley’s three month depression and showed complete remorse and apology. Marley could only furrow his brows and put the tea down to hug Scrooge.

“Man it wasn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself like that. None of it was your fault.” Marley curled his arms around Scrooge tighter as he heard him sniffling. “It’s never been your fault. I shouldn’t have been so jealous-”

“Jealous?” Scrooge mumbled with his head still buried in Marley’s shoulder. “You were jealous?” He tilted his head slightly before rising.

Marley stared silently for a while, not having processed that he had said that and admitted his jealousy.

“What did you put in this tea..? It’s making me really honest-” He grinned nervously as Scrooge giggled.

“Nothing, I hope! I didn’t even put sugar, I know you like it plain.” A soft, affectionate kind of smile was on Scrooge’s face as Marley sipped again.

“Yeah, see what I mean about knowing me? Val or Ma wouldn’t know that. They wouldn’t even know what my favourite tea is.” He swirled it in the thermos, watching its light green contents swirl around.

“Peppermint, but just plain peppermint. You don’t like peppermint and eucalyptus because it tastes like grass clippings.” Scrooge filled in the blanks, Marley snapping his fingers in approval.

“Exactly, bingo.” He chuckled, putting the thermos down and shuffling just that slight bit closer to Scrooge.

“Well uh.. Yeah. I’m sorry about ditching you. I’ll try my best to include you from now on, I swear.” Flipping the conversation back on topic, Scrooge also came closer. Their shoulders almost touched, slightly brushing when either breathed.

“We have two weeks off first, you got plans with Belle?” Marley had to retain the urge to grit his teeth when saying Belle’s name. He was jealous, and he’s admitted it now so he didn’t exactly have to hide - but he would prefer to.

“About that..” Awkwardly, Scrooge scratched the back of his neck. “We did have plans..”

“Did? What happened, did she cancel?” Marley wouldn’t have guessed for Scrooge to have cancelled on Belle, but he was dead wrong.

“No.. We had a cafè date on Tuesday, but I cancelled on her yesterday when you said we were going to meet up on that day. I kind of haven’t told her that we rescheduled and that you’re here now.” He grit his teeth, watching Marley’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oh. You cancelled on her for me -?” He felt slightly honoured, knowing Scrooge cared about him enough to give up time with Belle and instead spend time with him.

“Duh man, we’ve known each other for eight years.. and I missed you. Like, loads. You’re my best friend, Marley-” Scrooge nudged Marley’s shoulder slightly.

“Okay man can you not make me cry?” Marley, who didn’t cry often anyways, felt himself tearing up at Scrooge’s affection and had to try to laugh it off. Scrooge took the hint and laughed with him.

“It’s true, seriously. I really, really missed you and I was really worried.” His tone was light and gentle, just as was his laugh and everything he did. Scrooge was just so whimsical and perfect in Marley’s eyes, but he’d never admit that to his face. Just another little secret he kept to himself, his admiration.

“Yeah, the seventy missed messages and calls made that clear, Scrooge.” Marley made sure to reply in a playful tone as to indicate to Scrooge he didn’t mind the messages and instead appreciated it, which he of course did. The attention was massively sweet, and he revelled in it.

“Yeah sorry about that too.. I panicked-” Once again, Scrooge apologised and was interrupted by Marley.

“You keep saying sorry for stuff, you have nothing to apologise for. You’ve done nothing but care and worry about me, and you don’t need to be sorry for that. I appreciate it so much. More than literally anything.” Again, honesty hit Marley like a brick in the stomach and forced him to regurgitate only truth. Fortunately, it was sweet and pleasant. Unlike the searing and burning taste of bile and blood. A taste he learnt in February, but never forgot.

“Oh, alright. Sor-.. nevermind.” In response, Scrooge began apologising again - but bit his tongue and took it back. Slightly embarrassed and pink in the face when Marley giggled under his breath. The laugh felt cathartic - not having heard it for so long made it feel unfamiliar, but at the same time it brought relief to finally see Marley happy after imagining the misery he must’ve been living in. The misery he was forced in because of him ..

“Man, it’s good to see you. Really, it is.” After calming down, Marley leaned his head back on Scrooge’s mattress and turned it to face him. Scrooge’s face was still brushed with pink as he smiled towards Marley.

“It’s good to see you too. I’m glad you’re alright. Really, I am.” He quoted and rephrased Marley’s words in response, also leaning his head on the mattress behind them. “But you really should eat the stuff in the basket. We spent like twenty quid on it-” He giggled under his breath as Marley leaned his upper body forward, grabbed the basket by its handle and picked up the bowl of apricots he had held earlier. Slowly, he grabbed the fork again and speared one before putting the whole thing in his mouth.

“Isn’t there a pit in the middle?!” Scrooge, slightly panicked, widened his eyes as Marley chewed the fruit and, after about a minute - spat out the circular brown pit into the bowl.

“Oh.” He relaxed his eyes and untensed his body. “I guess you can do that too.”

“Just more efficient than eating around the thing.” Marley shrugged whilst poking the next and last apricot in the bowl, consuming it all in one bite and removing the pit once he was done. Three pits were left in the bowl

Scrooge just watched silently. He’d bought all this specific stuff he knew Marley liked and was content just watching him enjoy it. Especially after not having seen him at all for months. Just looking was enough. Marley didn’t question it, he didn’t have to. Scrooge looked at him often so this was just regular protocol. He’d like to think Scrooge was admiring him, but that was foolish. That was too out of pocket, especially to mention.

Halfway through a cherry, Marley’s phone buzzed in his tote bag. With a soft grunt, he dug it out and looked at the screen. The same number from before, one he hadn’t yet saved - Bob.

“Bob’s calling me again..” Marley raised a brow, Scrooge also looked confused.

“Pick up, see what he wants.” Curiously, Scrooge came closer to hear the conversation - but Marley just answered and put him on speakerphone.

“Hey Bob.” Marley began, Bob saying hey from the other end.

“Hey! Uh, sorry for calling again. I just wanted to ask if you knew what Scrooge was doing? I’m trying to ask him something but he won't pick up.” Bob spoke in a slightly muffled way, as if he was moving or doing something whilst calling. Or, most likely, he had his phone pressed against his shoulder and ear and his wavy, overgrown hair was brushing the speaker.

“I’m at Scrooge’s right now. He’s sat right in front of me.” Marley laughed lightly when he heard Bob grow timid.

“Oh, shit. Well uh can you pass him over?” Another shuffle came from Bob’s end, probably moving his phone.

“You’re on speaker, ask away.” Scrooge’s hand reached out as Marley passed him the phone to hold whilst talking.

“Hey Bob!” Scrooge’s voice was bright and cheerful.

“Hey man! Belle’s asking to talk to you, but you weren’t responding so I tried, and you didn’t respond so I just called Marley.. And now we’re here!” He was still being awkward.. Suspicious, even.

“Oh. Sorry- I’m just catching up with Mar and my phone’s on silent. I’ll respond now.” Scrooge reached over to grab his phone.

“Alright well that’s all I wanted, cheers, bye!” Hastily and in a slight panic, Bob hung up.

“Shit, that was kinda weird, don’t you think?” Marley took his phone back as Scrooge shrugged.

“Yeah sort of.. But I'll see what Belle wanted.” He unlocked his phone and checked his messages..

“Damn, so they are hanging out.” Bob chewed his cheek awkwardly as Belle stared at her phone. The cool, spring breeze slipping past their faces and billowing through Bob’s loose jacket. Brown and stained with the years of wear and tear he’d put into it.

“He could’ve told me they were hanging out today instead and that he did have time on Tuesday for our date..” She sighed, unsure of what to type - but seeing Scrooge was online. One of her hands remained holding the phone, whilst the other lay lightly on her lemon print frilly dress. It was more summery than it was springy, but it fit the season well enough to not be worn on a cold shoulder. Though the wind did make her revealed shoulders shiver whenever it breezed by in particularly thick gusts.

“What are you gonna tell him then? Ask him if you two can still go?” As someone who was single and had never had the slightest taste of love, Bob had no idea how to handle relationships. Whatsoever.

“I guess I would, but I’m worried he probably prefers Marley over me-” Belle began to slightly panic, and she was still unsure what to say.

“He probably does.” Bob shrugged.

“Bob!” Belle scowled and slapped his forearm, rocking him forward with the force of it. “Don’t make me feel any worse!”

“I’m being honest! He’s known Marley for.. What? Like eight years? They’re childhood friends and haven’t seen each other in months. Yes, you’ve been dating Scrooge for three months, but they’ve been friends for like.. forever-” He was only being honest, but tears beaded in Belle’s eyes.

“I’ll still ask about the date..” She finally began to text, her fingers scuttering across the screen.

“Good luck..” Bob mumbled, Belle’s head aggressively shifting back to him.

“Can you even try to support me?!” Belle threw her hands up in frustration.

“Okay okay I’m sorry! I’m sure he does care, but right now he just wants to see Marley. Give him a break, Belle. You’ve been hanging out for three months straight, give him some time with Mar.” Bob sided with Scrooge and Marley, watching Belle’s expression shift into slight confusion.

“You’re siding with them?” Her brows furrowed.

“Yes. I am. Belle, I’m sure having a man is great.. But he needs some time away with his friend. Bros before hoes. It’s called bro code .” Bob chuckled under his breath at the last bit and curled his arm around Belle’s shoulder, who sighed and put her phone down rather than sending her message to Scrooge.

“Bro code..” Belle scoffed.

“Yeah, Do you not have ‘girl code ’ or whatever?” Bob raised a brow, Belle’s expression softening and brows lightly unfurrowing.

“I guess-” She dropped her shoulders and slid her phone in her dress pocket.

“Right, wanna get those milkshakes? It’ll make you feel better.” Bob shook her slightly and she nodded, getting up off the park bench they were sitting on and towards the ice cream and milkshake store across the road. The white noise of cars trailing off as pop music enveloped their ears and the crunch of milkshake mixers began in replacement.

Chapter Text

June 1st, 2020

Spring break practically whizzed by and within the blink of an eye - pow. June 1st. Monday. Wake at 6 but get up at 7, breakfast, brush teeth and get driven to school. Basic routine for Scrooge. It felt loaded enough, but it was a cakewalk compared to Marley’s routine which consisted of waking at five, spending an hour tending to his coils, making breakfast (but ensuring it was nutritious so it wouldn’t be empty calories), brushing his teeth for the full three minutes and being out precisely at 7:50, arriving at 8:25. He’d be there at 8:15 if his mother was to drop him off like she used to, but nowadays her time was occupied by either his two half siblings or her work. Rahul and Ziana - his stepsiblings were 6 and 12. He was old enough to be independent now, but what he would give to be an only child.. Scrooge had it easy. He was the only concern of the Fezziwigs, but there was no concern to be had - he was a perfectly fine teen. Well, maybe aside from his night terrors - but they thankfully dulled down in frequency and whenever they did happen, it was rare and expected - during times of stress and anxiety. Marley was only briskly aware of Scrooge’s terrors - but Scrooge was even less aware of Marley’s life at home and his struggles. All he knew was Marley saw his mother, sister and his whole family as ignorant and in a way - neglectful. 

The majority of Marley’s spring break was spent with Scrooge, vice versa for him. The three months they spent apart needed to be atoned for, and these two weeks of break were just the sprouts of the beginning. Though most of his time was occupied by Marley, Belle remained part of Scrooge’s life. The cafè date never happened since it was never rescheduled, but they did meet a few times and it kept the relationship alive - though Belle felt it wilting rapidly. She felt in in Scrooge’s touch, saw it in his eyes and knew it from the amount of time he and Marley had begun to spend together again. Bob wasn’t helping either, excusing their behaviour as purely platonic and diminishing her feelings - making her feel even less validated. But now, spring is over. Summer term began and now there’d be no excuse for Scrooge to not spend time with her. Distance, time, availability - all of it out the window. He’d be there and available. Sat next to her in some lessons - so there’d be no excuse anymore. Well, that was the thought process until she arrived. 

Her step lost its bounce, face lost its colour and all the vigour drained from her when she saw Marley. His face was flat, even when looking straight at her. His headphones were tight on and hands nestled in his pockets, passing by her with hardly any recognition or acknowledgment. For a while, she’d forgotten he’d probably start coming in again. Those three months he was gone - she deeply enjoyed. But that was over. It was over two weeks ago, of course he wouldn’t be gone forever. Not as long as Scrooge existed. She was a fool to think he would be gone for any longer.

“Fuck-” Audibly, though meant mentally, Belle stopped walking and sighed. Thankfully Bob caught on right behind her - but he unthankfully heard the remark.

“What’s got you in a mood already? It’s hardly half past.” Bob used Belle’s shoulder as an arm rest and slurped some coffee from a clear plastic cup lazily. Probably from the coffee shop around ten minutes from here. The one her and Scrooge were supposed to go to.

“Oh, nothing- I just realised I forgot something.” Brushing it off, Belle shrugged as Bob slid off her shoulder.

“You sure?” He was uncertain that she was telling the truth - but Belle had no reason to lie to him (or at least no reason he was aware of). So, he believed her and took another sip from his coffee cup.

Belle nodded firmly, her eyes lightly trailing away and observing Marley (who seemed to be waiting for someone, but she didn’t have to guess who) before quickly returning to Bob.

“Welp, if you say so.” Bob began to slowly trail past the schoolgate, followed by Belle who dug her hands deep into her skirt pockets. He was quick to notice Marley and approach him too

“Holy shit, Mar!!” With excitement bubbling through him - Bob sprinted towards Marley and almost spilt his coffee doing so.

“Hey man!” Marley laughed awkwardly as Bob quickly hugged him, Belle’s gaze set on him. Strict and still.

“God it feels like it's been forever-! I swear you’re taller..” He examined Marley and lazily sipped from the coffee cup, Marley just shrugged and looked down briefly.

“Could be, I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Well we can just wait for Scrooge and compare you guys! Last time I saw you two, you were half a head taller..” Rubbing his chin, Bob turned towards the gate and felt a smile spread across his face as a familiar car slowed at the curb and an even more familiar face stepped out. Scrooge. Marley’s gaze softened at the sight of him, but Belle’s only sharpened and her eyes narrowed into slits. She could almost feel her heart shatter as Scrooge first approached Marley instead of her. Well - after being hounded by Bob.

No words had to be exchanged between Marley and Scrooge. They’d exchanged enough over the years and after hanging out for a few days. But what was exchanged was a long and tight hug. An affectionate one. Where both parties stick their arms out before even getting close. The type where an exhale is warranted - because it’s one of relief. Even worse though, it’s the type of hug where you have to ask the other person to let go. This time, like usual, Marley had to ask Scrooge. Yet he asked without words, he only needed to gently tap on his back for release.

Sheepishly, Scrooge weaned off of Marley. Belle stood awkwardly and stiffly - still not being acknowledged by her boyfriend. Well, at least until he did notice her.

“Oh, baby!” Scrooge pushed himself forward and leaned into Belle, hugging her and kissing her cheek. She appreciated it, but hugged him back stiffly and still slightly annoyed that he chose Marley first. Even if she was expecting it. Even if Bob had told her so..

“Wheres my hug?!” Bob pushed himself into the conversation as Scrooge pulled away from Belle and leant into Bob’s open arms. They hugged briefly.

“You reek of cheap coffee creamer.” Playfully, Marley added as Bob chuckled and took another sip of the coffee in his hands.

“I told him to stop putting so much. He’s the only one keeping Dairysilk in business.” Though she disliked Marley - Belle needed a way into the conversation and saw his comment as her way in.

“Dairysilk? Fucks sake that’s hardly even creamer, it’s just sugar.” Scrooge gagged sarcastically as Bob rolled his eyes

“I use the low sugar caramel one, actually!” Sticking a finger up, Bob corrected him. “And besides, we never comment on how Marley uses no creamer or sugar at all?” He raised a brow.

“I like coffee. Not sweet milk.” Marley stood his ground and defended his taste for black coffee.

“Ah yes nothing like a cup of misery and bitter despair in a morning. Forgive me, coffee connoisseur. Lighten up, Mar. Theres no way you actually like black coffee” Going back and forth, Bob took another hit at him. Scrooge laughed under his breath at the comment.

“Well each to their own, I guess. I just don’t want diabetes by 21” Marley shrugged and checked his watch. “This coffee talk is nice and all, but we gotta go in. It’s 8:40.”

In immediate response, Bob aggressively slurped the rest of his coffee and chucked away the cup with chunky, brown tinted ice still inside.

Marley and Scrooge discreetly linked arms and kept to the back as Belle and Bob lead at the front. Belle’s arms crossed over her chest, visibly irritated.

“I know I’ve asked already, but are you sure you’re good?” Bob leaned over and whispered so that the two behind them couldn’t eavesdrop. Especially the curlycue..

There was an awkward and uncomfortable but short silence as Belle decided between two avenues. One, tell him the truth. Two, lie. Yet she knew herself - a bad liar. Then a third option presented itself. 

“I’ll tell you later. Kay?” She responded dryly and also hushed. Bob nodded and coiled back up straight, not hunched over her shoulder anymore.

“She seems mad at me..” Scrooge mumbled grimly.

“I’m sure she isn’t, and if she is - she won’t stay mad for long.” Marley instantaneously began to comfort Scrooge and ease his anxiety, knowing exactly how.

“But she has every reason to be mad. I ditched our date, never rescheduled and now Bob came in with coffee from the place we were supposed to go..” He sighed - dejected. Marley’s arm unlinked from Scrooge’s and instead wrapped around his shoulder. The warmth that radiated off of Marley crept through Scrooge’s skin. Marley’s touch was enough to soothe him almost completely. His words just topped it.

“Don’t worry yourself. You’ll end up complicating things for both of you. Just apologise when you get the chance.” His voice suddenly smoothed over - sounding almost narrative with its tranquility and gentleness. 

A sigh escaped Scrooge. A relieved one, followed by a light smile and side-hug. Belle’s head moved back slightly and her eyes darted behind her briefly. The sight before her was appalling - how could Scrooge say he loved her but act like this..? How did things change so quickly? But more importantly - was she or Marley the problem?

She turned her head forward and focused on the stairs before her. Bob had now noticed her offset mood thrice, commented on it twice and received a concrete (but still, very ambiguous and malleable answer) once. He wasn’t planning on asking again, because her next answer would just be even less coherent and irritate her more. She’d promised one thing - later. Whenever later was, he knew Scrooge and Marley wouldn’t be there. Through that, he was slowly putting the pieces together. 

Now three doors appeared. Scrooge and Bob into the first, Belle into the second and Marley into the third. All separate forms aside from the first two. They guessed it to be luck whilst also misfortune. Belle couldn’t decide between the two - considering she was thankful for not being entrapped with Marley in a morning but sorrowful for the lack of Scrooge or Bob in the room. It didn’t matter though - it was maximally 20 minutes of lacking. The rest of her lessons she had with one or two of or even all three.

Scrooge enjoyed his form, mainly for Bob’s company but of course would’ve preferred Marley in his place. In anyone’s place he’d prefer him - even in Belle’s. Though he’d never admit that to her face. Especially now, when their relationship was frail and fragile. On the complete opposite spectrum - Marley despised his. Every single soul in that room was curated idiotically and raised just the same. Not a single cell of competence in them. Just utter and honest stupidity. Sometimes he had to ponder whether they had below average IQ or any disabilities that caused them to be such fools. He’d call himself an outcast, but he was the only normal person there. They were the outcasts. Saying he was the ‘only normal person’ may be an exaggeration though. There was Bart, who was competent enough for survival and a duo of two girls whose names he did not know nor care to learn. The rest were either airheads or squealing idiots.

They all moved to their respective rooms, waving each other goodbye and sliding past the open door and to their seats. Scrooge and Bob sat together in the middle, Belle at the front near a friend called Francesca and Marley alone at the back. Two spaces separated him from Bart, who sat somewhat nearby. There were two rather than one because the girl who used to sit next to Marley got herself expelled for ‘contraband’. Whatever that means. Probably weed or alcohol. No biggie, though Marley never saw the appeal of bringing that to school. The second empty seat Bart used to sit in, but he wanted to move towards the aisle and use his old seat as a leg rest. Marley didn’t mind it at all. Matter of fact, he encouraged it. Privacy and space was something Marley heavily enjoyed. Not in terms of Scrooge, but in terms of himself and other peers.

“Hey so uh..” Bob began awkwardly, taking his seat next to Scrooge.

“Hm?” Calmly, Scrooge turned and hummed in response, awaiting Bob’s next words.

“Are you and Belle like.. good?” He kept it straightforward and direct - instantly sensing the tension within Scrooge and back pedaling. “You know what, don’t answer that. Nevermind, sorry for aski-”

“It’s a bit complicated right now, but we’ll get through it.” Scrooge’s answer was just as direct but had undertones of bitterness or regret. It could be perceived both ways.

“Right. You don’t think you’ll break up though?” Concerned between having to choose one of them if they were to split - Bob continued to keep his priorities and questions straight. 

“I should hope not.” Again, Scrooge’s response was cold..

“Oh good. I don’t wanna be a child of divorce and spend weekends at mum’s house.” In an attempt to brighten up the mood, Bob threw in a joke. A cheesy smile smeared across his face like butter when Scrooge giggled. Now he understood why Marley was so heavy on the sarcasm - Scrooge’s laugh was just so contagious and fulfilling. No wonder Belle was so upset, reciprocated love is a simple ask from partner to partner, or it should be.

***

Biology: Period Two

Classroom S4. Marley’s biology class. Like he did in most lessons, he sat in the far corner. He used to sit near Bob - but the seating plan had been changed and now his place was to the left of Francessca. One of Belle’s friends. Her wide, round eyes made noticing her gaze quite easy - so Marley always knew when she was watching him. She did that often. Thankfully though, from the angle he was sat at he could peek through the windowpane at the side of the door and get a view of Scrooge in the classroom across. Unfortunately, he sat next to Belle. So to see him, he had to see her too. By now, this was something he had learnt to cope with and expect. They came in a pair now - as two. A package deal, even..

My gaze was fixed on that window, watching Scrooge and Belle speak. Well, Scrooge seemed to be doing most of the talking - Belle was doing a lot of nodding. Bitter silence, but compliance. The worst punishment. Even when I was laserfocused on the glass, Francessa’s stare from my left was evident. Very much so. Unblinking, unmoving, unfiltered stare. Closer. She shuffled closer to me. I could almost feel her warm breath on my neck, she felt that close. Her perfume was overpowering and overdone, like she’d sprayed it over and over in the same spot until it was sodden. I was quick to meet eyes with her for only a moment. An uncomfortable moment, but that moment was long enough to entice her to look away, thank god. I refocused on the window - my priority. Now, they were smiling and laughing. They’d probably made up by now. Well fuck..

“Err.. Jacob?” A light voice disturbed his train of thought. A voice at his left. His head turned, though he knew who it’d be.

“It is Jacob.. right? Or do you prefer another name-” Francessca was the voice. She was almost whispering, the classroom was only mildly loud and she didn’t feel like sticking out. Marley leant his head lazily on his hand and faced her direction.

“Jacob is fine.” His voice was almost as lazy as his pose. It was all the energy he could have at ten in the morning. Francessca’s face lit up and flushed lightly when he responded.

I noticed the touch of redness in her face. I would’ve preferred I didn’t, or more so preferred she hadn’t reacted that way. I hadn’t even said anything mildly seductive. I wasn’t being flirtatious. Frankly, the reaction uneased me. Repulsed, even. My stomach felt heavier than it did before and my throat was dry with discomfort. But she kept staring. Kept speaking. Kept going. And I did nothing to stop her from doing so. Because I didn’t know how. Politely, at least.

“So, Uh-.. What are you looking at through that window?” Francessca leant further towards Marley to get a better look at the window, but he dramatically and swiftly shuffled out of her way to avoid their bodies touching. He’d almost fallen off his chair dodging her. Of course she’d noticed immediately and slowly nestled back into her seat.

“Sorry! Sorry..” She apologised profusely, lightly waving her hands in dismissal. Her voice even softer now. “Didn’t know you’d react like that.”

She apologised over and over under her breath. Maybe four or five more times. But with the start of every ‘S’ to the end of every ‘Y’. She kept staring. Whenever she’d look away, it was so brief that I wouldn’t even notice. It’s like she had no other way to look but me and I absolutely despised every second of it. Each damp blink of her eyes, shuffle of her hands, chatter of her teeth - I heard it. Every miniscule detail.. Every part of her sickened me, and I hardly even knew her. I knew her by the few words she’d spoken to me and the fewer looks we’ve exchanged. But I hated her and had no idea why.. I knew she was friends with Belle. Close ones at that, but I’d never exactly associated them. I guessed my spite for Belle might’ve been contagious and had rubbed off on her - but I still didn’t know why..

Francessca kept looking, as if waiting for a response. Maybe she’d asked me something and I hadn’t heard it. But she waited ever so patiently on baited breath for me to respond, but the response I gave her, I don’t think was the one she wanted or was expecting.

“Why do you keep looking at me..? I’m as intriguing as a plain white wall.” I looked away. I’d forced myself to. If I didn’t see her, she didn’t see me.

“I-I-.. Well-” Francessca stuttered and stammered her next words. Marley’s expression only flattened.

“There's nothing more to me than what you can see. So stop looking.” I figured brutal honesty was best. I wasn’t going to beat around the bush with it, I didn’t have the energy to. 

“Please .” He added on at the end. Strained and irritated. 

“Oh. Okay..” Fran softly mumbled. Now fully turning her head away and looking in the complete opposite direction.

That made me feel lighter. A lot lighter. But that same pain and discomfort returned to me when my eyes met the glass, looked through and saw Scrooge and Belle again. He caused none of the ailments. Of course not, he could never sicken me. But she could, and she easily did. Just the sight of her was enough to make me rot into myself and keel. I’d done it before, so I wasn’t a stranger to the wrath of jealousy she lit up within me. I’d gotten used to it, I would like to think. Yet the sight that was before me was stronger now - one of two interlinked hands. Firm, but oh so gentle hands that should instead join with mine - joined with hers. Hands I knew well. Hands I'd held, but never in the way I wanted to. Fury and rage boiled within me, past my stomach and up my throat - lodging themselves in the middle and escaping as a rough cough. Masked by the lunch bell. A silent - but not so silent - saviour.

Chapter Text

June 1st, 2020

10:45 PM

17°C

My room, once a place of ease and comfort feels more like a cage. I used to bask and bathe in relaxation and sloth here. My bed used to bring me such immense comfort - as a bed should. I'd fall asleep upon impact. But nowadays I toss and I turn endlessly and relentlessly. I could roll back and forth until the cows come home, but not get an inkling of sleep despite how long I keep my eyes shut. I’d considered what caused this sudden change and brought this plague of discomfort and disgust for a place I used to consider a sanctuary. I narrowed it down to the following three.

One. After my rot, I no longer see my room the same way. Perpetually stuck in filth, despite being licked clean. My mind associated my room with rotting, therefore it is no longer a pleasant place. Or maybe, it’s the lingering words of that.. argument me and Valentina had after the clean. Her desperate, delusional words linger in the walls and stick to the paint. I still cannot fathom that the argument even had a place to happen. What a headless fool I must’ve been in that moment to trust her for even an inkling of a second. I shouldn’t be surprised that she’d snoop through my personal things to find things to blackmail me with. I am disgusted by her audacity almost to the same degree as I am disgusted by Belle and Scrooge - that’s saying a lot. Though I do not feel the same agonising sickness at the thought of her like I do the thought of them, it’s strange. But regardless of how mild or severe my reaction is to the thought - my disgust remains potent in both.

Two. I’ve gotten bored of it. It is much too mundane and plain for my dopamine hungry eyes. I need to decorate. Perhaps I should go buy some posters, photos or stickers. Something of the sort to freshen the place. Though I’m sure if I do decorate with things I like, Valentina will trot in here and laugh. No, she wouldn’t laugh - she’d sneer and cackle at my design choices and insult them in a way to compliment and promote hers. Unfortunately for her, I do not care for Britney Spears, Gwen Stefani, Lady Gaga or Ayesha Erotica. I’ll stay glued to my Pierce the Veil, Eagles, Radiohead and Guns N’ Roses. She’d dig at me for that anyways - she says I listen to what Dad likes, but I couldn’t give less of a shit anymore. However much I hate him, I must admit that if he does listen to that, he has good taste. I should be using the past tense, since I doubt they have access to music when locked up in cells. If they do, they’ve got it good in there. Regardless of that, I refuse to take music advice from Britney fans.

Or three. I’m being bothered by something. Something is irking me and it's throwing me off. Cutting off my sleep, my common sense and any rationality. I’m leaning away from one, further from two and closer towards three. Because I am irked, I am irritated. I am bothered. I have been for months. I know exactly why. It’s them. The ever so blissful love of my life with the absolute bane of my entire, pitiful, pathetic and jealous existence. Yes - I admit, I’m pathetic.

It has been a mere few hours since my joy and jubilance over their disconnect had been scraped away from me. Devoured. Annihilated by the meeting of his hand with hers. A Soft, gentle hold. Loving, caring and stomach turning. Acid churning. Vomit inducing. I could taste it in my throat and I can still taste it now. Their love is like a sickness and I am unfortunately its prime victim. It’s had me in its grasp and wrath once, then twice, now thrice. I may have even lost count, because three feels much too little. My point is - I am sickened to my very core by their sour display, but I have absolutely no idea what to do about it. I’ve already racked my brain to its limits. I’ve thought and churned up so many ways and methods of how to split them up, but my common sense kicked in and weaned me away from actually trying them. I was just so close already.. I stopped thinking of more. I thought they’d be over by this week and I’d be able to scoop him up and away, but I very clearly thought wrong. I’m back to the drawing board. Here are my current options.

Betrayal. The toughest and cruelest kind of split would be one of bitter and cold betrayal. If one chooses to cheat on the other, that would finish it immediately. Trust, love and loyalty is fundamental in every relationship - but I feel that Belle’s values really lie in loyalty, so she’d be especially hurt. Which makes me completely and utterly doubt she would dare lie a finger on another man (or woman, I do not judge preferences. I have no place to do so considering mine). She, whenever she's on good terms with Scrooge, is glued to his hip like I usually am. And to make this plan worse, I doubt Scrooge would betray her even more. He can hardly hurt a fly, let alone her. What a gentle soul he is, I admire his altruism. I can only imagine how loyal and obedient he would be to me too. I see how caring, loving and gentle he is with Belle. I’d love for him to be such a doll like that to me. I know he would be, even more so. I’ll just have to wait, but I'm horribly impatient. I’m about to start taking things into my own hands if I cannot think of anything else. Quick.

Seducing him was my second idea. But that isn’t going to work, Belle, who is observative and attentive would notice and call it out to my face or in secret whispers to him - telling Scrooge to distance himself or pull away from me. I doubt he’d comply, but she may be more persuasive than I think her to be. I cannot risk losing him to her. It is simply too big of a risk.. So now I'm back in a hole. But I keep thinking on it, because seduction is probably my best bet. The other ideas I have make no sense. Murder, that's messy and I probably couldn’t pull it off. Drugs, none of them would touch any with a ten foot pole. Setting Belle up with someone else, she’s not interested in anyone but him. Fuck. I’ve gotta make something work. I think of betrayal again and instantly forget what I was thinking - because I cannot pull myself away from that second idea. Seduction.

It made enough sense to me because I’d begun to notice something in Scrooge recently. A lighter and softer tone in his voice, a constant rosy and gentle scatter of blush across his pale face whenever we’re together - a scatter of blush I don’t see on him when he’s not with me. He laughs more at my jokes and comments (that I do painstakingly craft for his enjoyment) and he just seems.. Happier. When he’s with me, that is. With Belle he looks miserable most of the time. He and I are closer than she is with him. We link arms, we go everywhere together, I’ve been to his house more times than I can possibly count on both fingers and toes. His parents know me like a son. Do they know her like a daughter? I oh so doubt it. Our chemistry is so palpable I can touch it. Theirs? It’s hardly existent. Only a thin, hardly visible flow of gas that is quick to dissipate and disappear in the surrounding air. He and I, we are meant to be together. He must feel the same way as I do. He reaches out for me, hugs me like he means it, looks at me with this.. fierce and fiery passion. It’s not a normal look. It is of.. Love. It must be. Nobody looks at friends that way. Nobody treats a friend like that. We’re lovers, even if he doesn’t want to admit it quite yet. We’re more, and we’ll be even more soon. Of course, he cannot love us both. It is her or me, and it’s an easy choice. But if he won’t choose - I’ll make him. I will reconsider and carry out any of my previous options if I must. He’s all mine. Oh.. the very thought of it. My heart thumped violently in my chest - possibilities soaring through my mind at lightspeed. How do I seduce him..?

I suppose it starts with looks. I’m charming enough for now. Scrooge would admit it, he’s told me I’m attractive. The one time he said that, I could’ve sworn I almost suffered cardiac arrest from how fast my heart pounded and how hot my blood ran. He specifically likes my curls, he played with them more than once or twice when we were lying down after a sleepover and such. He also helped me clean the blood out of them the one time I had a.. scuffle with Rebecca. Each time his finger twirls around one of my curls, I feel the warmth of his entire body surge through me. So my hair can stay. I take good care of my hair anyways, I’m very attentive to it - perhaps I’m subconsciously extra attentive because I know he likes it. But aside from that, I wouldn’t mind a sturdier build and some more muscle on my bones. Now, the gym is far from foreign to me. I’ve started going more frequently and I do genuinely enjoy it - so a few more hours a week would only give me some more strain. That is about all I’d like to change about looks - I shouldn’t aim to do anything drastic if he already likes me how I am.

Personality. Of course he already likes my personality, but I could amp it up a bit. The sarcasm could dial up. I know he loves it. My sarcasm must be one of his favourite qualities because every time I say something sarcastic or I joke, it lands beautifully. Every single joke I place effortlessly flows and he laughs this.. perfect, hearty laugh that just warms me through to the bone. He’ll even remind me of jokes I’ve made before and laugh at them all over again. That aforementioned blush appears brighter in those moments and if we’re linking - he holds on just that little bit tighter. My humour is carved out just for him, and he fits right in that little pit in my heart and makes me feel so.. full and complete whenever he’s near. It's this feeling of fulfilment and company that I get from no one else. We’re made of the same mould, cut from the same cloth. Fitting together seamlessly. I just want him to jam that square peg in the round hole in my heart - even if it doesn’t fit. I’ll make it, because I know we were crafted, moulded, sculpted, shaped and fitted together. We were always meant to be.. They weren’t. 

My phone buzzed lightly beneath my sheets and roused me from my daydream. I picked it up eagerly. Just when I thought of him, he’d messaged. It’s like he sensed me..

His message read as follows:

“Hey Mar, uh.. Can you talk?”

Talk. It’s almost 11PM and he wants to talk. He can’t sleep, I bet on it. Of course I can talk. I’ll lull him to sleep, I’d rock him to sleep in my arms if I was there.

“Course, what’s up?” I replied fast. 

He took a while typing his next message. Maybe five minutes. For the entirety, I stared at the phone screen unblinking. The brightness of my screen piercing my eyes - probably harshening my prescription. It made it no better that I didn’t have my glasses on and I had to have the phone up in my face to read a single word. Then this.. paragraph sent.

“I don’t know what to do about Belle anymore. I thought we were getting along again, and I tried making up with her in Science. I thought we were okay now, but we just argued over the phone for about an hour and she’s not responding to me anymore. She’s just really pressed up on the fact I cancelled our date and hung out with you instead for most of Spring break. I don’t know why she cares, she knows we’re just friends obviously but she’s just so jealous and there's nothing I can do to like.. convince her that I’m loyal to her. I didn’t wanna say it, but I might have to distance myself from you for a while.”

My heart shattered. Sweat immediately dripped down my entire face in glowing beads. I finally blinked and a dry, hot tear streamed down my cold cheek. My fingers immediately began typing through my sniffles and tears.

“Man this just isn’t working out. I know you love her, but you guys are having too many issues now. This is just becoming problematic and it’s literally going to eat you from the inside out if you keep letting it happen. She’ll get over it, she loves you and you love her. She knows you love her. She just needs a minute to recuperate. And if she doesn’t get over it, cut her loose. She is not worth all this bullshit.” Yes, it did hurt to write “she loves you and you love her.” My heart whined at me as I wrote that. I was betraying myself and my own heart to write that bullshit with my own hands. I couldn’t just tell him the truth and tell him I want her gone. Besides, I’d much prefer to see the breakup with my own eyes and be a bigger catalyst towards it. The longer they’re together, the more deliciously bitter the end is. 

He began typing again. I waited on hot, baited breath.

“I want to give her a chance, that’s the thing. I want to give her a chance to like.. think and understand and get over it but I’m just worried she wont. I really fucking love her but I don’t know why she hates you so much. I don’t want to lose one of you to keep the other. I wanna keep you both.” I could almost taste the tears that were running down his cheeks. I knew he was crying and I only wish I was there to soothe him.. But I was too focused on “I wanna keep you both.” He wants to keep me.. He can’t let me go, even if it's for Belle. He must prefer me but not have the heart to tell her. He must prefer me, there isn’t a way in hell he prefers her over someone he’s known for eight years. Now I began typing.

“If she’s going to make you choose, she’s not worth it. Give her a few days to think about it, she’s rational as far as I’m aware. She’ll get over it, this isn’t even that big of a deal and she’s overreacting anyways. Keep us both, but make it clear that you’re not up for making sacrifices.” I found it rather ironic that it was I teaching him how to set boundaries considering how horrific I am at setting boundaries with my own family. Or perhaps they’re horrific at respecting them? Maybe a bit of one and the other.

“You’re right.” He sent, quite fast after my message and I did a small cheer to myself in response. He continued to type, again taking a while.

“I’m not going to pick between you two, because I shouldn’t have to. If she does make me pick then that’s a dealbreaker. All I did was forget to reschedule a date, she’s being dramatic and I’m going to wait for her to realise that and stop overreacting about a cancelled date. I really love her, but in a platonic way, I love you too. Thanks for the advice, Mar.” That was his next message, and it hit me hard like a brick. That phrase.. “I love you too”. It rang in my ears like tinnitus, but it was blissful rather than painful and irritating. He just admitted it to me. I didn’t care for “in a platonic way”. Nothing was platonic between us and he knew it. He loves me.

I typed without even thinking, I was surprised I didn’t make any spelling errors.

“I’m always here for you man, now to sleep - it’s late. Goodnight.” My message was simple and constructed - because I couldn’t manage anything longer.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow :)” That was his response and his last message of the night. I scrolled back up and read our whole dialogue again, stopping at that particular message.

My chest rose and depleted with such speed it made me lightheaded. I grabbed my chest, gripping my shirt and feeling my heart bang against my ribs - begging for release from my ribcage, almost breaking through with its force. Moisture completely left my eyes for I’d stopped blinking and was stuck wide-eyed, rocking back and forth with my hand pressed to my vibrating chest. Just the thought of him and I as a pair made me fluorescent red and had my blood boil with excitement. My entire body felt weak and limp, almost sickly. I held my own hand, locking my fingers together and pressing my fingers into my knuckles until they were purple. I imagined it was his hand rather than mine, gripping onto me for dear life.. I begged he’d hold harder, that he wouldn’t let me go and we’d eventually get stuck together. Glued by yearning. Now my desperation was so potent that Belle had completely escaped the equation and slipped my mind. All I could think of was how close he was to being all mine, and I salivated for him. Just the feeling, the thought of him being mine. It was enough to make me swoon.. I couldn’t wait to slowly tear them apart. Limb by limb. Year by year. I don’t care how long it’s going to take. He’s mine already. Now my chest ached with strain and my hands were blue from holding myself so tight. Letting go was painful - it stung and burnt like hot coals. I couldn’t calm my breathing for the next fifteen minutes - I had to splash my face with cold water to soothe my senses, though I remained red. I stared at the message, reading it myself over and over and over. He said it. Verbatim. He loves me. My entire body shivered with excitement and arousal. I imagined him curled in my arms, either fast asleep or leaning further up on my chest to kiss me. My arms would never let go, only hold and pull him closer. My lips would only reciprocate and speak words he wanted to hear. Whatever for him. Everything for him. My sanity for him. That is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

Chapter Text

June 2nd - July 10th

Just how Marley predicted - Scrooge and Belle made up and moved on fairly quickly. Belle got over the forgotten date and forgave Scrooge, Scrooge forgave her immediately and irrationality and Marley watched with dreary, tired eyes the entire time. A short time. It was two days. Regardless, two torturous days that quickly became agonising weeks as their recuperation lasted and lasted. They grew much closer in a very short space of time. More talkative and open with one another. Expressing feelings, dislikes and likes, concerns and whatnot. From holding on by a thin and precarious thread to being gripped by a strong, sturdy metal rod - they strengthened their love. Built a bond that was close to unbreakable. Both parties learnt forgiveness and how to ease tension in the relationship. It was the perfect way to keep afloat and safe. It was also the perfect way to incinerate and smolder Marley’s needy, aching heart. Each handhold and kiss was a crack. A cold, hard snap as his heart shattered and hit the ground. Each time, it’d break into smaller pieces that’d be harder to collect - so he’d end up with less every time. Now this once perceived one-time fling seemed so sturdy and hardy.. His previous plans of breaking it apart now fell into ancient ruins - for not even a thick steel crowbar could split them. The strongest drill couldn’t free the screw that held them together. They were locked by a half-blind dovetail joint. A biscuit joint even - locked from within. Wood joints came into mind, because of Marley’s woodwork classes. Classes he didn’t want to be in, but classes where he and Bob were free to talk with no caring parties around. Everyone else there was either a nerdy, quiet loner or just got on and left everyone else alone. So period three was woodwork and talk.

Marley’s gloved hand gripped a thin, papery sheet of sandpaper and skidded across the slab of wood before him. A half-blind dovetail joint cut into both its sides. Nothing extravagant was being made. It was going to be a box, that is all. However, he was particular, gentle and precise. He was gentle with the slabs - he wanted them perfect.

Bob was at his left with a small and flimsy (but useful) minisaw that he was filing the sides of his wood slab with, cutting out small dips in the top like teeth. Hyperfocused on getting them all even and proportional. Marley watched through his protective glasses and mask. Breathing in splinters or blinking and seeing blood was not on his Christmas list. 

After he had sanded the wood smooth, he removed the glasses and nestled them in his hair - replacing his regular pair and sliding them on his nose. The mask dropped down and hung on his neck as he sighed, watching small flecks of wood splinters wisp in the air.

“Two more days Mar.. two more days and then we’re free..” Bob began the small talk, discussing how their summer break was coming up. July 12th. All the students couldn’t wait.

“Mhm, free to do what exactly? I have no hobbies other than sleeping and music.” Marley scoffed and lifted his wood slab, sitting it up on its side and grabbing a second presanded slab. Also with the half-blind dovetail joint. “Theres only so many times I can re-listen to my CDs before I go insane”

“Well you have Scrooge! I’m off to some cottage my aunt lives in for a month.. There won’t be any internet or anything!” Bob’s expression dropped momentarily, but he shrugged shortly after and continued his woodworking.

“I doubt I’ll have him at all, he and Belle will be too busy making out. Them two got really close again.” The mention of Belle made Marley gag, but he held it back. “And suddenly I’m chopped liver again and it’s all just “belle, belle, belle!”.. We haven’t spoken in like a month.”

“Oh.. yeah. That’s fair enough..” Bob then shrugged and continued to work on his piece, Marley too - sliding the two slabs together and hammering the joints with a small wooden mallet.

The class was eerily silent, only faint scratching and sanding, handsawing and heavy breathing through masks could be heard amongst the distant chatter of the other classes nearby. The woodworking room was an open space in the school’s art department alongside all the open art classrooms. That included Belle’s class, which was a nary thirty second walk away from the woodworking space.

Francessca dabbed crimson red paint on a canvas with a thick and flat brush, spreading it out with a palette knife in the shape of a rose petal. She sighed at the result and grabbed a paper towel - wiping off the paint and leaving a wet red smudge on her clean white canvas.

“Ugh.. I guess 3D isn’t the way to go either.. None of my options look any good-!” She slapped her hands to her sides, her fingertips brushing the dried paint of her navy, rattan apron. Belle laughed lightly under her breath in response, but remained focused on her piece.

“How's yours going?” Nosily, Francessca stepped away from her canvas and towards Belle, who sat hunched over her painting with a thin, ‘Precision Perfect’ brush. Carefully and gently adding shading to a painting of a chrysanthemum. Fran watched in awe, fascinated by Belle’s attention to detail.

“Pft, well you’re doing way better than me! Looks great, Belle.” Picking up a thick, painters brush - Fran dunked it into a half dried mound of gesso on her wooden palette and coated the stain. Smoothing it over to try and conceal it to the best of her ability. Then she had to wait for the layer of gesso to dry.. All lesson, she had only made mistakes.. Her canvas was just as plain as it was at the start.

Belle finally finished the shadows on her chrysanthemum, dipping her thin brush in water and washing off the mauve paint. She gently dipped her brush in white and returned to detailing, adding small droplets of ‘water’ on the flower. Fran just watched, wideeyed as always. Staring. Before she forced herself to turn away - remembering what she had been told for staring in the past. So she just stared at her blank canvas..

Rising from her hunched position, Belle sighed as she checked the time - 12:22, the bell for lunch was about to go at 12:25. There wasn’t a point in continuing, so her hands met the edges of the canvas and lifted it up on an easel to dry. Fran kept her eyes glued to her canvas and her own belongings, keeping her eyes off of Belle or anything of hers. Belle, of course, noticed - as Fran’s nosyness and effervescent curiosity had suddenly vanished.

“You alright, Fran?” Belle glanced over at her - wide eyes narrowing into guilty, pill shaped slips.

Francessca recoiled slightly and nodded fast after, but she remained wordless and concentrated.

“What's up?” Belle persisted, packing her things and sitting in Fran’s empty seat. A hot, quivery sigh left her.

“It’s nothing, Belle-” Her bubblyness was displaced by a cold and crisp tone of voice. She reeked of pessimism.

“No, what’s wrong? You’ve gone all stiff and stuff. It’s okay if you didn’t get anything done-” In an attempt to comfort her and distract Fran from her unfinished piece, Belle gently took Fran’s shoulders and turned her back to the damp canvas. But she wouldn’t look Belle in the eyes..

“Come on, you can tell me.” 

Francessca sucked in a breath through her teeth and finally looked at Belle.

“I just didn’t wanna stare at you and like.. make you feel uncomfortable or something-” She shrugged, but Belle’s brow rose in confusion as a response.

“What do you mean? When have you ever made me - or anyone - uncomfortable?” Deflecting some of the tension with a short laugh, Belle loosened herself from Fran’s shoulders and watched her lips purse awkwardly.

“Well- er..” Fran still stood stiff.

“Fran.. What did you do-..” Immediately Belle could tell Fran had done something to bother or discomfort someone, and she could almost sense who before Fran even breathed his name..

***

The bell chimed and dismissed the students. Bob and Marley were one of the first to leave, pushing past the crowd to get out before the swarms of younger years came from upstairs and swarmed the exits.

Bob was at Marley’s left, dusting off his school fleece from woodflecks that came off when sanding his wood piece. Whereas Marley was already fully dusted and pristine. Not a single flake or splinter of wood. Precision and careful movement paid the big bucks.

“What lesson was Scrooge in?” Bob turned his head slightly to Marley, lifting it slightly to meet his eyes. There was about half a head difference in the two. Marley responded almost immediately.

“He had media. He’ll be out soon if he manages to avoid the crowd.” Marley gestured towards the hoard of younger years behind them, pushing and slipping between one another to get out.

“Ah.” Bob’s response was simple and plain, still dusting himself (but needlessly now, he’d cleared himself of any visible wood specks and was only making sure now)

Other students and year groups began to spill out from their classes and fill the school courtyard, Marley and Bob glided between them effortlessly (with only a few shoulder bumps) towards their main hangout spot. A concrete slab pressed up against a wall nearby the infirmary block. It was incredibly uncomfortable - but their school jumpers and fleeces provided enough cushioning to make it somewhat sit-able. 

Bob sat down first and Marley followed shortly after, leaning against the brick wall that the slab was up against. One of his legs straightened out and the other curled up, an elbow parched over his knee. 

And then they waited. Bob waited for a pale, blue eyed doe and a stick of a man whereas Marley waited for a devilhorned imp in the skin of a sixteen year old girl and a heavensent, sixwinged angel. Delivered via sunlight, blessed with virtues unparalleled.. It didn’t take long for them to arrive - interlocked with joined hands. A pale hand meeting another ghostly one. A clawed, scaled hand with a hand sculpted by divinity itself. A sinful, repulsive, sickening display. It almost felt like blasphemy.

Marley swallowed dryly as they approached, consuming his insults and bile before they split out. Scrooge raised a free hand and waved - to no response. Belle didn’t bother waving, she made herself known purely by scent. She claimed it to be Vanilla Orchid and Walnuts, but to Marley (who happens to have a refined sense of smell) she reeked of winning, joyful spirit. The complete opposite of Marley’s. His loss dug deeper into his chest, consuming his heart whole and squeezing any victory points out as punishment.

Their steps were synchronised. Walking at the same pace, speed and distance - as if programmed to do so. Each poised, pretty landing of her feet was mirrored by Scrooge. Though his steps weren’t quite so pretty or gentle, he was more rugged and direct - despite being the exact opposite of that description in every other scenario that calls it. Belle stopped walking first and let go of Scrooge, who placed himself before Marley but received little to no reaction or acknowledgement of presence. 

The past few weeks had been hard for the two of them - drifting further and further apart. Focusing on exams, tests and whatnot could be the excuse, but they both knew it wasn’t that that was pulling them apart. It was those waist length curls on that pale, round head. The head that stood before Scrooge, Bob and Marley. Her hands were clasped together and a chagrin smothered itself across her painted face. Belle’s expression was one of excitement and anticipation - like she was about to announce something. And Marley wasn’t far off in thinking such.

Clearing her throat and gesturing her hands in a flat, downwards motion - she signified for all three to be sat. Scrooge was the only one who needed to pay attention to that since Bob and Marley had seated themselves prior.

“So..” She began, but hesitated slightly.. Marley was growing impatient and she hadn’t even said two words yet.

“I’m going to be in Italy for most of summer! So.. no plans, kay?” She gestured towards Scrooge and Bob, not towards Marley - because even if they had arranged plans, (which they wouldn’t have done in the first place). Marley would be a no-show. So he scoffed in response as Bob and Scrooge erupted into shock. To him, this was no shock. Belle was wealthy and came from Italy - it was obvious she was going to visit family and was going to be staying a while. But, if anything, it was a good thing..

In Marley’s mind, the name ‘Belle’ belongs with the words ‘gone for most of summer’. All it meant was more time to.. cosy up to Scrooge. No Belle meant no distractions. No pesky blonde hairs scattered around Scrooge’s room, no cancelling plans or meetups over her, no Belle.. 

God, this is a blessing if anything..!

Marley began to listen into their rambles, his thoughts scuttering away momentarily.

“..Yeah. I think it's uh..” Belle bit her lip and thought for a second, Marley zoned out again briefly.

“13th of July to 16th of August.” She nodded to herself as Scrooge’s jaw dropped.

“That’s over a month! That’s so fucking long-” He whined lightly but Belle gave him a reassuring smile and reached for his hand. Marley gagged behind his sleeve and disguised it as a cough, but thankfully didn’t draw any attention anyways.

34 days.. Oh, it couldn’t be any better..

“It’s fine baby - it’ll fly by!” She tried to keep optimistic, but could sense Scrooge’s upset. It had Marley’s eyes wanting to roll back into his skull in annoyance and disgust. They knew each other so well that she could just smell his feelings.. The same way Marley could once just touch Scrooge and know all his thoughts in an instant. It’s safe to say he hadn’t touched him in a while - and oh, did he miss it..

Bob grimaced awkwardly as Belle and Scrooge lightly kissed, hugging too whilst they did. Her curls softly brushing his shoulders, his hands on her waist.. The sight had Marley writhe - but he tried to hold himself together. Bob (besides the grimace) had little to no reaction to their display, having gotten used to it many months ago already. Marley had clearly not. He didn’t speak (or react strongly) whatsoever, only narrowed his eyes judgementally at Belle when she glanced at him after and kept a perpetually annoyed and irked expression on his face. Scrooge glanced at both Bob and Marley, but was especially concerned by Marley’s silence. They hadn’t really spoken much, again, drifting apart. Belle had simply taken up too much of Scrooge’s time.. So he sat there. Unmoving, just looking. Observing, even.

“Well.. good for you I guess?” He finally spoke. “ I don’t know how you were expecting me to react.” Marley didn’t need to say it - he made it obvious that he wasn’t fond of Belle and didn’t really care for her whereabouts. Belle knew this, of course..

“I just thought I’d tell you too, so you’re not last to find out - Marley.” Her voice densened and flattened, but Marley just scoffed and shrugged to throw any care or concern off himself. She dug a hand into her artificial blonde curls. Marley kept still, his natural curls sitting softly on his head. A trait he knew she envied.

The tension and utter hatred between the two was so palpable - it almost became tangible.. It was so dense, you could feel it hanging in the air. Scrooge awkwardly clenched his teeth and Bob did the same - slightly uneased by the sudden silence and hostility in the atmosphere. The awkward spirit was broken by Bob clearing his throat, awfully dramatically at that.

“We should all hang out one last time before you go then!” Bob mirrored her actions by clasping his hands together, despite not getting the same crispy, clap sound as she did earlier.

“Yeah, sounds good!” Scrooge agreed immediately, but Belle and Marley hesitated. They’d never all gone out as a four. Only in twos or threes..

Marley didn’t move a muscle, waiting for Belle to set out her judgement before he dared to comment - but she just nodded and agreed blindly, leaving Marley to follow suit with some angst in his shrug and nod.

***

July 12th

Up and early, only to go somewhere unremarkable. All four arrived at the allocated destination (a small fountain in the town square) one by one. Marley, the earliest bird of all - having been up since six, arrived first at 10:30 sharp. Not a minute before, not a minute after. Precision was a key value of his, and he never let his crown slip. Belle came next, only two minutes late. A dissatisfied growl came with the sight of only Marley and no sign of Bob or Scrooge, though it was to be expected - being late was their speciality..

She silently sat on the edge of the fountain, avoiding the damp spots where water had splashed on the concrete build. Marley didn’t speak either, nor did he sit. He just stood and leant against one of the taller peaks at each corner, Belle sat about a pace away. Both of their outfits were casual. Marley wore his regular baggy jeans and a band graphic tee (specifically Pierce the Veil) and Belle wore jean shorts with tights beneath and a flowy, plain white top. Gold necklaces hung from her neck, matching bracelets twirled around her wrists. Her artificial curls pinned in a flowy bun and glasses perched on her thin nose. 

The two eyed one another momentarily, only to gruff and return to staring straight ahead and waiting for Bob and Scrooge.. But they both knew they were only waiting for one of them.

Marley’s watch ticked on his wrist, counting down the minutes. One.. no sign of either. Two.. nothing, still.. Three.. A pair of brown heads walked by, but it wasn’t them. Belle’s foot began to tap on the beige tiles beneath impatiently as they approached the fourth, fifth and sixth minute. Marley followed her rhythm, also tapping with growing impatience and folded arms.

Following a bored sigh, Marley finally spoke.

“It’s always them who plan, but they arrive last.” He huffed and Belle shrugged with a “Hmph”. That response only warranted a heavy sigh..

“Listen, we don’t have to be best friends - but you could at least respond with words. Give me that, at least.”

“After how you treated Fran? After the way you treat me? No, Marley. I won’t give you that ‘at least’. I don’t care enough to find words to say to you.” Belle scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Marley lightly recoiled and unfolded his arms, sitting down besides Belle on the fountain. The pace in between them left him more than enough room.

“Yet you just gave me 31 of those words.” He mocked and Belle shuffled slightly.

“Alright, I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly a doll to Francesca - purely because being stared at all lesson, every lesson is.. disturbing to me.” Marley lingered on ‘disturbing’, as if he couldn’t find the correct word at first.

“I wasn’t even being rude or anything, I just told her to stop looking - Sorry that I have boundaries, I guess.” He shrugged and Belle turned to him.

“You ‘just’ told her to stop looking? What about telling her to ‘piss off’ and ‘leave you be’?” Belle’s arms now crossed as Marley’s brows rose in confusion.

“I didn’t tell her that-” He thought back to the moment - he indeed never said such a thing.

“I really wish I could believe you.” Her tone remained stiff and sarcastic.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just telling you, I didn’t say that. You’d be glad to know I’m not a complete dick. I have no good reason to lie to you about this.” Marley got up again, spotting Bob in the far distance and waving briefly.

“Pft.. ‘not a complete dick..’ but a dick regardless-” She mumbled under her breath.

“Don’t act like you’re not one either. We’re both cunts and you know it.” Marley squinted - checking if it was actually Bob or not approaching as Belle rose defensively.

“How am I a cunt? That is rich coming from you!” Her voice rose and Marley could never be so thankful for how slow Bob walked..

“You hate me for no reason, that’s why.”

“As if you don’t hate me too, you’re no saint!” Belle’s arms rose from her sides in disbelief.

“I never said I was. I said we’re both cunts, remember?” Marley’s tone remained mono and calm whilst Belle began to get riled up..

“Alright - but ‘no reason’?! I hate you for a very good reason!” Her anger began to slip out of her, but Marley remained completely calm and content.

“Give me that reason, if it’s so good and reasonable - I'd like to hear you justify it.” Marley turned his head to her briefly before looking back to Bob, who was about ten paces away and before Belle could even think to speak, he’d already arrived. So instead, she gritted her teeth and held her tongue that little bit longer..

“Hey guys!” Bob waved as he came closer and bellowed to them, Marley waved back with a snarky, proud grin.. He could see Belle seething, bottling up her anger from just the way she greeted Bob - Stiffly. Seeing her angry was almost as good as seeing Scrooge happy.

Speaking of Scrooge, he was next to arrive. Last, but not far off of Bob. He was dressed similarly to Marley - also in baggy jeans and a black graphic shirt. They were almost matching, perhaps Scrooge took after Marley’s style from all the years they spent together. Though Bob also had similar style, just with cargos instead of jeans, a white undershirt beneath a plain black overshirt and a thick hoodie wrapped around his waist.

Scrooge waved to the three from a short distance and Marley immediately waved back before Belle could even think of doing it. He came up shortly, hugging Belle and kissing her cheek first out of anything. Marley could see Belle’s anger dissolve in Scrooge’s touch.. He could only wish to feel that same kind of release. Scrooge’s touch and hugging him - a once regular occurrence - began to feel alien and distant.. He could hardly remember the way it felt, despite the warmth of Scrooge’s body being one he had memorised. There was a time where he could distinguish the feel of Scrooge from anyone else with his eyes closed, now he wasn’t so sure of himself.

But that warmth was so quick to return when Scrooge turned to him next and hugged him just the same. His soft, comforting hold absorbed all of Marley’s thoughts at once.. Swallowing them, like a pit. Marley’s arms instinctively cradled Scrooge’s back, softly stroking up and down. Scrooge nestled in further. Bob and Belle just watched and waited..

“Alright guys..! I think that’s enough!” Bob interceded and pulled the two apart. Scrooge just giggled with a slightly flushed (embarrassed or aroused? He couldn't be sure..). Belle clearly noticed, having cleared her throat and extended her hand - which Scrooge gladly took as they began walking away from the fountain and towards the shopping centre to the left of them. Bob at Marley’s right, Marley at Scrooge’s left and Belle at Scrooge’s left. One pair held hands, the other walked with crossed arms or hands in pockets.

Their first destination wound up being a Fragrance store. Belle rushed inside, dragging Scrooge around with her to smell all the sweet, feminine perfumes whilst Marley and Bob smelt all the deeper, male fragrances and colognes.

Bob sprayed liquid from a round, test tube-like container on a perfume testing stick and wafted it around in the air, bringing it to his nose afterwards.

“Oo, this one smells really good!” Bob took it away from his nose and stuck it out to Marley.

“After the cotton candy one, I don’t know if I trust you.” Marley took the paper stick from Bob’s hands by the dry end and hesitantly brought it to his nose. He was referencing a perfume Bob sprayed earlier - a sickly aroma that assaulted Marley’s senses.

“Trust me on this one I swear, you’ll love it!” Grabbing Marley’s wrist, Bob pushed the stick up to Marley’s nose - and he breathed in. A strongwilled and persistent fragrance. Intense and potent, yet it didn’t feel assaulting like the aforementioned cotton candy. It rested on the paper gracefully, and slipped through the air in thin, warm tendrils.. The base notes were of espresso, cardamom and cinnamon with sprinkles of eucalyptus and spruce wood. Together they combined to make a cloud of comfort that enveloped his entire body. It smelt of warm, autumn mornings, it felt of tepid, platonic embraces.. It almost filled that cold, empty hole within him that yearned to be repleted. 

“Give me that bottle.” Marley stuck his other arm out and Bob slipped the tester glass vial into his hand. The textured beige label read “Espresso Cardamom”. The back had a more in depth analysis of the scents - and what Marley picked up was almost exact.

Base notes of Double Espresso, Black Cardamom and Black Pepper.

Heart notes of Cinnamon, Hard Maple and Vanilla Orchid.

Top notes of Eucalyptus, Mint and Spruce.

“So.. I’m guessing you like it considering you’ve been snorting that perfume stick like a fresh line.” Bob chuckled under his breath as Marley finally took the stick away from his nose.

“That smells fucking gorgeous.” He continued to observe the bottle.

“See! I can be trusted with cologne! That cotton candy was just a dud!” Bob crossed his arm with pride, knowing how picky Marley can be - it felt good to have at least somewhat impressed him with his choices.

“You can’t be trusted with coffee either, Bob.” Marley snarkily replied and placed the tester bottle back on the shelf, grabbing a product box from behind it. A clearly textured maroon rectangle, a coffee bean print all over it, sealed in clear, tape-y plastic. The letters on both the front and back in gilded gold. The checkout was his next destination - behind artificial blonde curls.

“I’ll go wait outside!” Scrooge stood in line at her left - but caught sight of Bob leaving and waiting outside the store and followed suit. She nodded with a smile, before she caught a sight of something herself. Dull, dark eyes set on her back like a sniper rifle’s crimson laser.

“You’re looking at me like I just killed your firstborn” She snarled, Marley could only sneer in response

“What’d you get?” Completely avoiding her comment, Marley peered over her shoulder to see two boxes in her hands. One of Carolina Herrera and the other of Marc Jacobs. Standard scents that he’d smelt on her before. She flashed the boxes at him for a better look, he only nodded simply.

“And you, misery and bitter despair in a bottle?” Belle quoted Bob’s words from the other day - his comment on coffee.

“Awh, you know me so well..” Marley’s gaze softened momentarily before sharpening again and taking a step towards her side. He saw it to be less awkward than being glued to her back. “I’m still waiting for that reason.”

Belle glared at him with a look so fierce and foul it could burn.. “What reason..?” She glanced around her and lowered her tone slightly.

“The reason why you hate me to the point of boiling blood. You never gave it to me, and I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.” His responses were so plain and standard - with no infliction in his voice at all. Monotone, the whole way.

She scoffed and recoiled lightly, shuffling further up in the line.

“So?” Marley tilted his head, but Belle kept her mouth shut and lips pursed whilst she thought of how to structure this response.

“I hate you, because you hate me. That is it. We mutually hate each other. That should be simple enough to comprehend.” She took inspiration from him in her next response, taking liberties to be clear and concise with both delivery and language.

“What a lousy reason to hate someone..” Marley mumbled under his breath - knowing exactly that it is that exact same reason he uses when asked why he hates Belle.. Hypocrisy at its finest..

***

“They’re talking..” Bob watched with attentive, wide eyes - staring at the till as Belle placed her boxes down and Marley slipped back behind her in line. “Do you think they’re finally getting along?”

“No.” Scrooge replied quickly and sharply.

“Why not? Look! This is the longest they’ve ever talked without growing red with anger..!” Bob was simply fascinated by this being the longest conversation between Marley and Belle. A part of him just wanted them to get along and be friends, it’d really alleviate some of the bad blood and atmosphere in the group..

“They mutually hate one another. They’re not talking, they’re bickering.” Whereas, Scrooge used his common sense. Despite how much he wanted the two to get along - they simply wouldn’t. He’d tried, but all they’d do is snarl at one another and exchange nasty, hateful looks..

“Oh come on! Have some faith?!” The enthusiast in the bunch kept peering through the windowpane - but Belle was already heading towards them and away from the till as Marley paid and followed shortly after. She glued to Scrooge’s side, and Marley to Bob’s side.

The silence in the air was stifling and strangling.. Marley and Belle exchanged bitter glances every other step. Bob and Scrooge didn’t want to slip up and say anything that’ll rile either party up.. Especially Marley, who was already known for his short temper and violent tendencies.. The name Rebecca was lodged in every throat clearing cough for at least two years after the fight.

Another desirable location peered around the corner - a records store. Well, they sold much more than that, but mainly records, CDs, DVDs and lots of antique memorabilia. Marley was the one to point it out, being a ‘physical media geek’. They went in as a four and again split into twos. Scrooge and Marley, Bob and Belle. The first two instantly slithered towards the records and CDs as Belle and Bob lingered around the antique trinkets.

Marley flicked through the shelf of CDs, checking every album cover - looking for one specific one.. Scrooge just watched with folded arms, browsing the top shelf mindlessly. For best friends, they hardly spoke nowadays..

It was Scrooge whose obnoxious throat-clearing cough picked up Marley’s attention.

“Hm?” Marley hummed, lifting a CD off the shelf and sliding it into Scrooge’s hands for safekeeping whilst he looked for more. “I’m all ears”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out a bit when Belle goes. We haven’t really-.. Well, spoken at all honestly.” Sheepishly, Scrooge observed the CD case - Guns N’ Roses, Use your Illusion I.

Marley rose from his hunched squat and laid another CD in Scrooge’s hands, a smile plastered across his face. A smile Scrooge simply couldn’t leave unreciprocated.

“I’d love to.” He followed the smile with those words, and now they were both stood with glassy eyes in the middle of the records store. Sliding the CD’s into one hand, Scrooge wrapped his other around Marley’s shoulder and brought him into another hug (though brief - it was just as toasty and comforting as the first). 

They broke away, still plastered with elation. Scrooge’s hand lightly brushed Marley’s as he handed him the two CDs. The second was Collide With The Sky by Pierce the Veil. An album by the band he was wearing a shirt of. Tour dates slabbered across the back and the album cover on the front. Scrooge personally wasn’t a fan, so he didn’t understand - but Marley knew every lyric.

Belle snarled from the other end, but tried to focus on a trinket. Bob immediately noticed her expression, and couldn’t help but comment..

“Man, why can’t you and Mar get along?” He slapped his hands at his sides and Belle glanced with a raised brow.

“Why can't we get along? He’s the one who hates me!” She placed the trinket down and picked up another one to distract herself from the not-so far away laughs of Marley and Scrooge..

“But you hate him too. You both hate each other for absolutely no reason. If you got along, we’d be so much fun together!” Bob was prioritising the group as a whole - but Belle more so focused on keeping her relationship on the good end of the tide. She wasn’t up for swimming with sharks. That being curlyhaired, hispanic ones.

“I’m not going to break my back to get along with someone who hates me regardless of what I do. I love Scrooge, but I don’t have to love Marley.” She was almost taking from Marley with the way she was responding, in that same plain and ‘no bullshit’ way.

Bob could only sigh and hunch in defeat.

“God forbid I try to get the friend group together rather than being two duos..” He huffed and closed his mouth from that point onwards. Belle didn’t really have a response either rather than a light sigh and a scoff.

By the time Marley and Scrooge were checking out, Bob and Belle had already been outside waiting for the past five minutes. Trinket browsing can only be so interesting..

They (meaning Marley) left with a clear bag nudged into his elbow crease. Two CDs, two posters and a vinyl. His cologne from earlier was also in the same bag, he’d transferred it in order to not have to carry two bags, though Scrooge chivalrously offered to carry one of Belle’s if she needed. She humbly declined and kept her smile on for the rest of the expenditure..

***

Slowly one by one, everyone got picked up by their parents nearby the square. Bob waved goodbye first and climbed into the front of his father’s car, Belle scuttered off next and clambered into the backseat of her mother’s car. That left Scrooge and Marley - who were to be picked up by Nigel. Marley to be dropped off at his house and Scrooge to go home with Nigel. It was just convenient since Marley’s mother claimed to be ‘busy!’ and couldn’t come personally. Nigel coming to pick the two up saved Marley a bus trip and saved his arms some bag holding.

Their allocated waiting spot was at the rear end of a bus stop. Scrooge squatted up against the glass and Marley leaned against the same pane. Once Belle had left, he dug into his pocket and slid out a pack of cigarettes - taking one, lighting it with a black lighter and taking a long, relaxed breath. Belle had disclosed how revolting she found cigarettes and ensured to ted-talk all smokers in her vicinity. 

Scrooge rose from his squat, now also leaning against the glass pane beside Marley. He didn’t comment on the cigarette smoke. The smell of it nor the smoke hitting his face per puff. Marley had been smoking for about a year already - this was just regular protocol. There’d been times where Marley had remembered a pack of cigarettes, but forgotten his phone or keys. Scrooge didn’t want to flat out state it was an addiction, but he sure acknowledged that as a possibility. 

Marley took a short hit of the cigarette and breathed out fairly dramatically. Or at least loud, but loud enough for Scrooge to take immediate notice.

“You good, man?” He nudged Marley’s shoulder and received a short nod in response. “Sure?” Scrooge could sense his uncertainty. The silence was vociferous..

“I’m just.. glad that we’re making an effort again.” He responded with a slight rasp and blew out another silky gray puff. Though he did hesitate before ‘glad’, as if he was looking for a different word before settling on that. “I’m glad you’re here again, and I’m not just some afterthought-”

The second the word ‘afterthought’ left Marley’s dusted lips - a stinging guilt burrowed itself within Scrooge’s chest. A chest so full of love for Belle, but with no more room left for Marley..

“You were never an afterthought Mar.. Never. I just got busy with Belle, and I’m sorry-” The apology from Scrooge was almost instant, natural considering how apologetic of a person he was.

“God man, don’t be sorry for spending time with your girlfriend. I get it.” Marley chuckled lightly under his tainted breath, tapping the cigarette with his finger and removing some of the ash.

“I never wanted to leave you out or anything like that. I didn’t know how to talk with you anymore because you and Belle just.. hate each other so much.” Scrooge forced emphasis on each letter of ‘hate’ - for it was necessary to encapsulate the hatred the two shared for the other.

I could almost sense his tears coming.. It hurts me to know that my preferences in people and personality affect him so deeply, but there isn’t exactly much I can do about how I feel towards Belle.. Her name aches to utter and burns my tongue at the finishing of every letter. I couldn’t get along with her if I tried.. We’re the complete opposite of what She and Scrooge are - compatible. They’re compatible, one in the same. But me and Belle are polar opposites, yet never yin and yang. Our opposites aren’t balanced enough to form such a force.. We’re two yins, or two yangs. Or no yins or yangs at all. Just fresh, bitter, cold hate. Straight from the heart.. My only avenue is a dark one. One I’d rather not go down, but the one I know he’d want me to go down.. So - I spit out the worst idea I’ve ever had.

“I can try to get along with her, Scrooge.. I am trying.” A flat lie, but Scrooge couldn’t read between the lines. All he heard was ‘get along’.

“Really?!” Scrooge burst into bubbly excitement, grabbing Marley’s free hand and clutching it in hope. The happiness was so wholesome - Marley couldn’t help but giggle and change Scrooge’s clutch into a handhold.

“Really.” Marley held Scrooge’s hand tighter, watching Scrooge’s smile widen even further before he pressed himself forward and brought Marley into a hug. Of course, Marley reciprocated - but kept his cigarette out of the way of the hug. In a way, it was cathartic. To have Scrooge back, that is. To have him to himself for a month. But eventually, that month would be over and he’d go running back to Belle. No.. 

No. That won’t be happening. I’ll be sure of it this time. His body will rest in my arms. He will be whom I swaddle to sleep. Any empty gaps in my heart, soul or bed will be filled by him. We are essentially lock and key. But for every disruption, every hand he holds that isn’t mine, every kiss he exchanges that isn’t with me, every word of love he says that drops on my deaf ears.. It builds a steel, adamantine, ponderous chain around my very heart. Chains that wedge and carve their links into my flesh. The thought of such chains makes me queasy. It makes hot bile rise to my throat again - like it does at any mention of her. I’ve grown accustomed to its savoury burn, though that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable. The hug lasts exceptionally long, purely because I won’t let go. His arms have already loosened slightly, but my grip only tightens. My cigarette falls from between my index and middle finger - stumping itself out against a rock. 

An obnoxious, though recognisable car horn sounds from behind. It must’ve been Nigel.

Just a minute longer.. Please-

“Mar- Dad’s here..” Scrooge laughed awkwardly under his breath and Marley had no other choice but to break away and laugh the same gawky tune.

“Sorry.. I zoned out-!” He lifted up all his bags and followed Scrooge towards the car. The trunk opened automatically once they got near (most probably triggered by Nigel) and they slid their bags within its dark velvet interior. Once loaded, it drifted down slowly and shut. Next was to load themselves into the backseats.

“Heyhey boys!” Nigel, jovial and bright as ever (his usual demeanour) turned around to observe the two who were still clambering into the backseats and adjusting their seatbelts.

“Hey Dad!” 

“Hey Nigel!”

“You two look a bit worn out, you had fun?” He glanced down at their jeans - baggy and slightly torn to frills at the bottom.

“Yeah, we walked around a lot! It was fun though!” Scrooge shrugged it off and so did Marley. The small threads gave the jeans a rugged but well loved look.

Nigel simply smiled and turned back to face the wheel “What’d you buy then?” 

“I got some new figures and posters!” Eagerly and proudly, Scrooge announced his purchases. Small in number, but sufficient for him.

“I got CDs, a bottle of cologne, posters and vinyls” Marley responded fairly plainly - knowing that the stench of cigarettes was leeching into the car’s interior with every word he spoke, and Nigel made that known.

“Does your mother know you smoke? I can smell it off you.” He eyed Marley from the reflection of the rearview mirror.

“Pft, yeah.” Marley shrugged as a look of bewilderment rose on Nigel’s brows.

“Does she not reprimand it?” Nigel slowed down as he pressed down the break at a red light.

“Well, she doesn’t stop me from doing it. She just lets me do whatever, she stopped caring about what I do the second she found Kamal.” He simply rolled his eyes - acknowledging the fact his mother was careless about his unhealthy habits, yet did nothing to intervene.. “The most she’ll do is give me a dirty look whenever I smoke near her”

“Marley..” Nigel began - but Marley intercepted.

“Please don’t give me another “you’ll get lung cancer!” talk. I’ve had enough of that from counsellors and her.” Marley slouched in the carseat, Scrooge’s eyes flickering between Nigel and Marley depending on who was speaking in the current moment.

“I just wanna tell you, son.. The damage you’re doing to your body isn’t worth it.” Clearly, Marley wasn’t one that was easy to convince, and Nigel knew this well. Marley was argumentative, stubborn and precise. He knew exactly what words to use, exactly when to say them and not once did he accept change. His beliefs were his and they stuck. Very rarely did his perspective on an issue or opinion change. Unfortunately, Nigel had the feeling that this was one of these things.

“I’m not your dad, I’m not going to sit here and lecture you about the dangers of it - but I need you to know that there are serious consequences.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, please.” Marley now crossed his arms and felt in his pocket for the cigarettes and lighter - making sure he had at least two left for tonight.

And there was where Nigel gave up with a hardy sigh, parking his car squeakily along the curb. Marley’s house only a few inches away.

“Cheers for the ride.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and waved to Scrooge, grabbing his bags out the trunk before proceeding to the front door whilst the car skidded off.

The hinges squeaked as Marley entered - the floor shinier than usual. The walls retaining a fresher, cleaner scent and colour. Something that changed here in the past few hours. Avani slipped out onto the hallway and tiptoed towards Marley, hugging him - only to be thrown off by her own son. Not a hugger, even to his own mother. Scrooge being the exception.

“What's up with the floor?” He asked and looked down.. Damn, that floor was clean - he could see his reflection in it.

“Oh, I polished it! I cleaned all around, I figured you’d like it, since you are quite.. limpio?” Avani ended her sentence with the Spanish word for ‘clean’. Spanish.. Marley’s father’s native language. Santiago. The language he was taught by him, rather than being taught Hindi by his mother like Valentina was.

“Don’t ever say that again.” Marley was close to gagging - her pronunciation was increiblemente off, especially considering how long she was married to him. 

“I thought you’d like that-” She mumbled-

“Why would I like you reminding me of him?! I was having an alright day, you know.” Marley slid off his shoes and scoffed.

“I’m sorry, Marley” Avani continued - Marley pausing at the second word. She’d called him Marley. Not the name she gave him - the name that was his father’s. Well, matter of fact - Santiago gave him that name. Both 'Jacob' and 'Marley' have Spanish roots, but Marley was a surname, Santiago’s surname. Valentina had changed her surname to her mother's - "Sharma" fairly recently. Marley himself was the only ‘Marley’ left. Well, his father was still alive - but locked up.. And for so long that his ostracisation classifies as death.

“You’re fine calling me by his name?” He was bewildered by it.. Avani had made it a point to completely remove Santiago from her life, yet this was just bringing him back in. All that work.. For what..?

“It’s the name you’re more comfortable with, so I’ll call you that.” Lying a hand on Marley’s shoulder, Avani stared him straight in the eyes - she could smell the tobacco, but she didn’t budge.

“Sure, I guess-” Marley slid his mother’s hand off his shoulder and slowly made his way upstairs. Avani stood at the door still. A soft smile on her aged face. The type of smile Marley hadn’t seen in quite a while.

Valentina sat upstairs in her room with her door ajar and one wired earbud in. As Marley came upstairs, she peeked through and waved - only to receive a cold stare. 

“Yikes, fuck you too-” Val crossed her arms and slipped behind her door, slamming it in anger.

At this point, Marley was used to his sister’s verbal abuse towards him and had learnt to ignore it or respond with a bite back. Yet, he was much too tired and unbothered to do so currently. The bags practically fell off his arms once he entered and placed themselves in the corner of the room. With nothing else to do and an unwillingness to unpack all he bought yet, his thumb slipped over the lid of the stiff cigarette box and flicked it open. Exactly two left.

Chapter Text

July 2020 - December 2021

Despite not exactly wanting to, (that at least being the case on Marley’s behalf) the three spent the next year in tandem. Spending Halloween, Christmas, and Summer all together. Halloween was unremarkable, and Christmas just rang wrong.. At least for Marley. For Belle, Halloween night was lodged in her mind..

October 31st, 2021. Halloween: 2:10 AM

It’d been long after the rise of the moon and set of the sun. The room - meaning Scrooge’s - was dimly lit with pumpkin spice candles and faint LED lights that flickered cheaply. In a circle sat three. Marley, Scrooge, Belle. Scrooge between the two, but that only meant Marley and Belle were opposite one another. Staring with spite and awkward, forced half-smiles. Smiles that immediately dropped whenever Scrooge did the justice of looking away. Though, looking or not - the two always looked at one another with a flat and emotionless gaze. Well, from Marley’s side, there seemed to be more anger and spite in his eyes.

Audio from a forgotten horror movie quietly screeched from the TV above. The volume was almost at zero whilst they preoccupied themselves with mainly meaningless conversation, card games and gluttonous popcorn consumption. For most of the conversation, Marley was completely silent. He only spoke when spoken to or when asked by Scrooge - not by Belle, like some obedient dog. Thankfully, she never really made an effort to have an active conversation. It was only Scrooge who pushed inclusion and tried to pull Marley in.

“Do you not have a favourite horror movie?” Belle’s brow rose in response to Scrooge.

“I just don’t really watch movies honestly.. Marley is more of a movie guy” He looked towards Marley, whose flat expression suddenly flushed the slightest, most unnoticeable shade of pink. Unnoticeable by only Scrooge, of course. Belle had noticed it immediately and frowned as she turned to Marley.

“Oh.. Yeah.. So what’s your favourite movie?” She required a throat clearing before asking that, nestling closer to Scrooge and further from Marley.

“I like The Godfather,” Marley replied simply.

“Oh, the one about like.. mafia?” Scrooge sunk himself into the conversation, letting Belle grip his forearm and lean on him.

“Yeah. It’s a good movie, all three of them.” He nodded, still keeping his responses plain as flour and shovelling a small handful of popcorn into his mouth

“Theres three?” Scrooge continued asking questions - doing all to keep Marley involved. He’d promised to do so..

“Mhm. One was 1972, Two was 1974 and Three was 1990. They’re all like.. three hours long each.” It was nice to be included, but only when it was a conversation between Scrooge and Marley only. He enjoyed Belle staying silent and remaining as simply a sleepy addition to Scrooge’s arm.

“Oh shit, I don’t have that kind of attention span.” Then Belle had to butt herself in - Marley’s slight smile faded immediately. 

“I do.” He grew suddenly passive aggressive and gazed at Belle, quickly returning his eyes to Scrooge.

Now hung an awkward silence as neither knew what to say next. Marley chewed the popcorn silently. Belle nestled closer and got more comfortable whilst Scrooge fidgeted briefly before getting up. Her grip on his forearm completely slipped off as he rose.

“I’m gonna get a drink from downstairs. Anyone want one?” He cleared his throat as the two before him both nodded. Scrooge knew exactly what to expect of them the second he left the room. Bickering - and he was wholly correct. He heard it immediately, before his foot even landed in the hallway.

“Must you be such a nuisance?” Marley growled, immediately catching Belle’s attention.

“Nuisance? Me? What have I done to piss you off now?” She defended herself strongly, but acknowledged the fact that Marley might just be trying to get a writhe out of her.

“Swaddling up to him mid conversation, pushing me in when I don’t want to be part of this..makeshift throuple.” His tone lowered in anger, but Belle rocked her head back and laughed. She.. laughed-

“Fuck’s so funny?” Marley’s face grew red with anger as Belle’s laughs became hiccups. She took a deep, controlled breath before continuing.

“I just.. I find it so funny how you’re mad that.. I’m spending time with my boyfriend and enjoying his company..? You didn’t have to come, you know?” She rested on one hand, her white pajama shirt slipping off her shoulder slightly.

“Matter of fact. I did. You think I want to be here?” He copied her movements, his black shirt also sliding off his shoulder, but revealing refined, silken, sunkissed muscle rather than smooth, pale and polished skin.

“Why are you here, Marley?” She said after a bit of hesitation. With it came a raised brow and she tilted her head to the side, like a curious dog.

“He’s been dragging me around with you guys everywhere. Haven’t you noticed?” Marley’s thin glasses slipped down his nose slightly, before he chose to place them onto his head. They disappeared in his voluminous coils.

“Yeah.. but I’m asking why you came.” Belle asked again.

“Because he wanted me here. I didn’t have a way out, I'm not gonna say no to him.” Marley shrugged - but Belle’s face contorted in confusion.

“Why not?” 

“God, what are you? Akinator? Enough with the questions-” He swatted his hand at her before gripping his face in said hand.

“Oh god forbid I’m curious about why you’d come to a function you clearly don’t want to be at?” She got up from her arm and instead leant against Scrooge’s white bedframe.

Marley grunted in response and rolled his eyes before sighing out an answer.

“Because he told me he misses me. And if me being here puts him in a better mood - so be it. I’ll tough it out.” 

Belle took a minute responding, running a hand through her hair before answering.

“You do a lot to keep him happy..” Her response was fairly quiet. Her gaze glued to the ground. Pulling away and sticking to Marley after his next words..

“He keeps me happy. I return the favour.” 

Her mouth dropped slightly as Scrooge re-entered the room. Marley’s eyes immediately shifted to him, his gaze softening, face relaxing, body language loosening. 

“Keeps me happy.”.. 

“Wanted me here..”

“I’m not gonna say no to him..”

He loved him-

How have I only properly noticed now..? I’ve kept that thought in the deep back of my mind, refusing to push it to the surface - knowing how ridiculous that claim was. For the better part of a year, I’ve been convincing myself that all Marley was - was jealous. But it clicked now.. Somehow.. Only now. His bickering wasn’t made of spite, made of hate or anything like that. It was made of jealousy and competition. He’d always been competitive..! This isn’t a trio, it’s two people battling out for one person. Competing for his love, like it’s a prize in a game.. This is all a game to him.. I’m nothing but a pawn.. Does Scrooge know this..? Is he part of this?! Has he been lying to me and letting Marley play me like this? Has this been a duo plan all along? To lure me into the security of this relationship and kick me from his arms whenever he finds convenient? Whenever he and Marley choose that they’ve had enough? And I can’t get rid of him.. I can’t even try. If I dare even mention that to Scrooge, he’d flip on me and drop me here. In this instant, it’d be over. They’re so protective of one another, especially Marley to him. Fighting his fights, literally. Both in arguments and physical fights between a party and Scrooge - it was Marley who settled it. Violently or not.. He’s violent. He doesn’t have restraints on who he speaks to like an animal or who he disrespects.. He disrespects his own mother. Why am I surprised he treats me the same? He’ll keep treating me like this for however long this relationship lasts, because he’s not going. And he knows it. They’ve been glued to each other's hips since they were eight. Almost ten years of knowing one another, they know all of one another.. And Marley wants to know more- God..! I can’t win.. I can’t. Scrooge’s heart is already his - there isn’t much, if anything, I can do to keep him.. But I must try.

I never would’ve thought that this would turn into a game of who gets the last laugh..

***

Christmas of 2021 was particularly chaotic, as all three families had chosen to combine in one house.. Marley’s multitude of siblings, Scrooge’s playful parents and Belle’s strangely calm parents who were the only ones celebrating the religious aspects of Christmas.. But Veda, Rahul and Ziana couldn’t care less for their prayers - they saw presents under a tree and tore them open, even if they were not their own.

December 25th, 2021. Christmas Day

The room was stuffy with festive cheer. The scent of buttery mashed potatoes, homemade soups and spices that tickled the back of the throat when breathed in. Some of the scents in the room were of freshly sprayed perfumes - Belle’s father, Dante, had chosen to gift every woman in attendance a perfume. That included Marley’s twelve and fourteen year old sisters who were more prone to drinking the perfume than using it responsibly. Even after hitting double digits, all three of his siblings were just as hyper and idiotic in their actions as they were on Christmas Of 2019. Marley and Scrooge’s first Christmas together..

“The essence of Christmas must be the togetherness of family.. It is a beautiful thing that we could all connect like this on this special day.” Belle’s mother, Lucia, spoke with a recognisable but light, bubbly Italian accent. Marley guessed she had roots in Rome, based on her vocal inflictions and mannerisms.

“Oh I agree! Christmas as a three gets pretty lonely, and Scrooge just loves the company of his friends..” Claire fondly looked over at Scrooge and Belle, huddled together on the couch. Scrooge’s arm draped over Belle’s shoulder, their fingers interlinked. She’d seen this before.. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it yet.

“It’s beautiful what they share.. Isn’t it?” Lucia replied. 

She must be fond of the word beautiful with how much she uses it..

But this time, she was referring to her golden locked daughter in the arms of her boyfriend.

“It is! They are just so adorable. Like peas in a pod.” Now Nigel chimed in - and Claire scrunched her nose. She’d heard that before. She knew it this time. Her head twisted to the right, Marley was seated forth of the adults on the opposite end of the table, a wine glass lodged between his index and middle finger. He swirled its contents, absorbed in observing the liquid. (Or at least pretending to be) Only now she’d noticed how his place in Scrooge’s life had morphed. Once the most important person to him now sat alone, swirling bitter, spiced wine in a cold glass. Remnants of toasted cigarette dust on his dress shoes, the smell sticking to his partially undone white shirt collar. It was a suit he was wearing, but the blazer was draped over his shoulders rather than worn normally and the tie hung loose on his neck.

“Marley” Avani turned to her son, who hardly tilted his head to show he was paying attention. “How much have you had of that wine?” She and Kamal had accustomed themselves to calling Jacob by his surname - ‘Marley’. That being his preferred name now. It slightly burnt to say, but calling him by his birth name nowadays resulted only in a snarl. Marley didn’t exactly see her problem - since Jacob was also a name given to him by his father. So, they should be synonymous.

“Not enough to make me drunk. I’m fine.” He spoke with a chill in his voice - but Claire couldn’t be sure if that was reflective of the weather, the chilled wine or the two cuddling on the couch. He turned his head back and stared at the wall art. It was minimalistic, modern and plain.. So plain and boring that Marley forced himself to look away, but all that was left to see was them.

Belle’s been onto me since Halloween. She throws these snarls and jealous squints at me whenever I dare cast my eyes in the direction of Scrooge. She’s a fool to think he’s property to her when he’s always been mine. She should know it, before I make her swallow the truth.

“Alright, Don’t drink too much..” As a mother should be, she worried. Her son had grown so cold over the past year.. He’d grown physically too, beating Kamal’s six-foot record months ago. His voice shallowed and deepened - her boy had become a man.

“Even if I do bang out drunk there isn’t much fun to do with a lack of sobriety in this house.” He continued sipping, and by now Avani had just nodded and turned her head away to avoid her own son’s piercing gaze. “I’ll live.”

Drunk New Years sounds fun, now that I think about it. Celebrations and events give me an excuse to drink, so she can’t disguise it as irresponsible or try to take me to rehab for having one beer.

Claire sighed (or more so, took a deep breath) before turning to Marley and asking her own question.

“Marley.. What do you think of..” She cleared her throat and whispered the next phrase “Scrooge and Belle..?”

Marley paused halfway through a sip. He hesitated, pushing the wine down his throat and finishing his chalice before letting out a sigh (or a deep breath).

“What am I supposed to think?” He shrugged and tried to keep his eyes off them, but like magnets - he was pulled in..

“Well, you and Scrooge were very close until they began their relationship. Do you feel a change?” Claire continued inquiring, but Marley wasn’t paying attention anymore.

It’s almost ironic how I’m sitting here right now. Drinking this astringent wine on my own. It’s ironic how I’m the one who is alone, that is. Because I started with company in abundance. I had friends and family and people who cared about me. He was completely alone, left to suffer and rot in the arms of his own father. His sister, left to decay in his arms. A burden to carry for all of eternity - how if he just kept those little eyes open a little longer, she might’ve lived. He might’ve lived a completely different fate, and we might’ve never met. But now the tables seem to have completely turned. He has life, and love and joy.. In abundance. I have nothing but my own pity to swallow whole and fill myself with. A family that only pretends to love, but never nurtures. A mother who cares, but not enough. A father locked behind cold steel bars - eyes of whom I have long forgotten, and I doubt I’ll ever remember to their fullest. Sisters who admire, but never look beneath the surface. A brother who is inspired - but is already more of a man than I’ll ever be. The word ‘love’ leaves my lips the same way an empty breath does. It means nothing to me, and it is an intangible thing I will never grasp.. What a bliss it must be, to know how to love. What I would give for such knowledge. So what am I supposed to reply with? Say that I’m jealous? Admit to everyone that I envy something as simple as that? No. I do what I do every time someone asks. Whether that be Belle, Ma or Claire. I lie my way through and slither through the gaps between truth and deceit.

“Marley?” A female voice breaks my chain of thought.

“It’s nothing, really.” A completely flat lie. I should hope for their gullibility.

“Nothing? You haven’t noticed a change in you and Scrooge’s friendship whatsoever?” Claire continued questioning.. But Marley’s next response wasn’t so flat.

“I don’t think shit about them, kay? They’re dating, it’s a thing. Who cares?” His response was abrupt and he spat his words as if they were filled with venom, but it was wine.

He’d caught Scrooge and Belle’s attention - but she was quick to be disinterested and nestle back into Scrooge. That tended to be her line of strongest defense, it killed Marley inside and pleased her 

“Language please, Marley.” Kamal spoke up and quickly silenced him. Marley bit his tongue back and took another swig of the alcohol, grunting afterwards.

“Do you have anything stronger?” He swirled the empty glass and looked towards Nigel, who furrowed a brow.

“Stronger? Son, you’re seventeen.” An awkward laugh escaped Nigel’s lips.

Damn, since when do you enforce laws? Last time I was in your car, you barrelled 40 down a school zone. Hypocrite, pour me a fucking glass.

“I’m also only on my second glass. You got whiskey?” Marley placed the wine glass down as Nigel glanced at Avani - either asking for approval or looking to share a look of panic, or both.

“Marley..” She warned, firmly staring her son dead in his sepia-toned eyes. He stared back. Unblinking. Now that he thought of it, his mother’s eyes were amber, like whiskey..

“One glass.” He bargained, receiving a disapproving headshake “Oh come on! It’s Christmas. One. On rocks.” 

Avani exhaled harshly through her nose.

“One.” She finally agreed and Marley rose with a snarky grin. Nigel followed suit to the kitchen. His hand slid into the cabinet to the side of the fridge and removed a square bottle of whiskey and two rocks glasses. Pouring the liquid over ice, he offered one glass to Marley. A slither of alcohol in it, hardly even whiskey on rocks. More like rocks on whiskey.

“Cheers.” Marley responded as both a way to say ‘thanks’ and also as an invitation to clink glasses. Nigel playfully clinked back and quickly swallowed the bitter alcohol with pursed lips and squinted eyes. Whereas, Marley had no reaction. He swallowed it with just as straight a face and slid the glass across the counter.

“Your mother said one glass, so that’s it. ‘Till you’re eighteen. Save all the drinking and whatnot for then.” Now, Nigel rolled the lid of the whiskey back on and placed it back into the cabinet. “You don’t have to rush. You have all of adulthood to get drunk off your rocker.”

“Ehhh, why wait?” His hands shifted to his pocket and slipped a cigarette out the rigid, laminated packaging. By now, this had been this fourth cigarette of the night - and his lighter ran dry of fluid. Thankfully, Claire’s hyperfixation on candles meant there was at least one lit candle in every room. Marley hovered the cigarette above the festive, cinnamon flame, placing it into his mouth and taking a long puff - holding it in until he’d approached and opened the garden door only a few strides away. 

“For health. To ensure that you’ll be here tomorrow, for yourself and everyone who cares about you.” Nigel replied with a slight smile to brighten the mood, but Marley took a long hit of the cigarette. His back pressed against the doorframe, the cigarette smoke flowing slowly from his lips into the air. Swaying in the winter chill, the roasted scent hanging in the damp, evening air.

“Who wants to live forever? I’m having fun while I’m here.” He shrugged - but Nigel’s brows furrowed dramatically.

“Son.. You have so many people on this planet who need you. So many people in this house that love you-” Nigel quickly stepped forward and placed a hand on Marley’s shoulder - though he had to look up very slightly. “I’ve noticed these patterns in you and your behaviour. These habits you’ve adapted at such a young age - they aren’t good for you.. I have not a clue how your mother allows it, but she is one of those people who cares.”

Marley’s expression suddenly flattened. Completely.

“Bullshit.” Marley crinkled his face in anger, Nigel slid his hand off in confusion.

“Scrooge doesn’t need me anymore. My mother lets me do what I want, when I want without a second thought, only questioning my behaviour if there's others around. If I overdose and die tomorrow - it was under her ‘guiding eye’. She’s letting me rot myself away so that she doesn’t have to get rid of me herself.” He huffed small puffs of smoke with his words, again - spitting them with lightly drunken venom.

“I appreciate the concern, Nigel. It’s nice to know you care and whatnot, but in saying there're ‘so many people who need me’. That.” Marley pointed the cigarette at Nigel. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Marley didn’t receive an instantaneous reply. Instead, a woeful stare. Furrowed, thick brows and wide, beady, caring eyes. But that wasn’t the response he wanted, nor expected. Nigel was always fairly talkative and knew exactly what to say and when to say it. The silence was sharp, slicing the conversation to an end roughly. That was until Marley began up again.

“I do what I want and I live life how I want, and if this is how I want to live it - let me.” His back now fully met the doorframe - his head moving back with it. Marley’s arm bent and slipped the cigarette into his mouth, holding it with his teeth and taking intermediate puffs between breaths. “If you’re icky about second hand smoke, I invite you to leave me be”

“Scrooge does need you, Marley.” Nigel finally spoke, though quiet..

“He has Belle. He doesn’t need me for shit no more. I’m just a bystander and a passerby.” Marley shrugged it off, but one of Nigel’s hands firmly gripped his shoulder before it had time to even drop.

“You are all he spoke of for years. You and him had this.. unbreakable bond that lasted all the way through your teenage years.. I did not raise such a headless fool that’d forget the power of bonds, especially ones that last.” Nigel’s hand locked Marley’s shoulder in place. Though he didn’t exactly struggle to slide it off after his mini monologue. “You must still feel that bond.. Somewhere?”

Marley hesitated, taking another puff and blowing it out to the side.

“I don’t feel shit.” Marley held the cigarette between his fingers on his right hand and slipped Nigel off with his left.

“How is that? How could such a strong bond break so easily?” He continued his questioning, receiving persistent eyerolls from Marley.

“Pretty easily when a whole new face enters the picture. Vying for his attention.. She takes up all his time now. I have no more room between them, and I don’t wanna be part of some throuple.” The spiteful, venomous tone remained in his voice permanently. It showed anger - but was also a plea to be left alone. Vulnerability and emotions weren’t exactly what Marley wanted to talk of on Christmas Day, or on any day…

“I see.. I never noticed how much you spited her.” Nigel finally stepped away and began to approach the corridor. “If you do ever need someone to talk to - I’m always here.” He smirked slightly as Marley sheepishly smiled behind a cloud of cigarette smoke and dusty winter wind. Nigel’s footsteps trailed away into the family room and laughter once more erupted - muffled by the sound of rustling trees and toasty cigarette butts. With harsh, chilled inhales came smoky, dusty exhales. Over and over, until a stumped roll of ash was left - crumbling in Marley’s fingers. He stumped it out against a garden stepping stone and cleared his throat, shutting the glass garden door behind him and reentering the festivities. Only to return to his seat and rock anxiously..

My hands tighten into fists, knees buckled and curl under the chair. My gaze dead set on her sleeping, limp body in his arms. Such a gentle sight of trust and love and compassion - I felt it rotting me from within. A hot, burning anger wrapping my skin as she nestled closer. A piercing, cold hatred squeezing my heart as he brought her closer. It’d be more pleasurable to skin myself alive and sew on each slab of skin anew with a rusty needle and acrylic thread. It’d hurt less to drink kerosene and swallow lit matches - but the feeling would be similar. A jealousy so fervent that its flames roast and lick at my flesh, never dying down, only growing and materialising with every touch, kiss, handhold, every word exchanged between the two. I taste the betrayal in my mouth, and it tastes of sweet promises, honeyed words and bitter, soured betrayal and bile. The burn of it is familiar to me now, I know when it’s coming up and when to force my tongue to the back of my throat and push it down with my whiskeyed, smoked saliva. The chill of the air outside still hung in my lungs, but condensed and left my entire body heavy with shame, when I could be light and free with opportunity and happiness. Such words I haven’t known the meaning of in years, and I can never be sure if I will know such sweet victory in this lifetime. A man can only dream..

The festivities ended soon after presents were opened and Marley’s younger siblings began yawning their words. Communally, all had decided to call it a night. Kamal would’ve driven Avani and all the children back home - but they’d all drank that night and the safer option was just sleeping over. Marley didn’t exactly mind, considering he knew that couch downstairs like a brother, having slept on it more times than in his own bed. Automatically, that was his spot. Kamal and Avani shoved themselves into the guest room, Valentina slept on the second pull out couch opposite Marley and the three younger siblings of theirs all fit on one blow up mattress.

By 2 AM, everyone was knocked out cold and wrapped up in their sheets. Well, all besides Marley. A night owl - he has always been. An early bird too, but somehow he balanced both. If not for his sudden, unquenchable thirst, he would be fast asleep. Thankfully, the kitchen was very close by so he could slip out and get a drink easily and without noise.

The cabinet slightly squealed as Marley pulled it open and grabbed a glass, pressing it against the water dispenser on the fridge. Cool water dribbled lazily into the cup until it was full and Marley took it away from the sensor. The first sip was one of relief, all he had to drink that night was wine that tasted of misery and whiskey that was bitter like the rye that made it. He sighed with gratitude as it slid down his throat.

“You’re still up-?” A familiar voice called from the dim hallway. A tired, but relaxed voice.. Scrooge’s. He rubbed one eye and peered over at Marley with a half lidded one. 

“I was trying to sleep, but I got thirsty-” He simply shrugged with the glass still in his hand, he still wore his suit trousers and shirt from earlier.

“Oh..” Scrooge nodded slowly and also poured himself a glass, leaning against the same countertop as Marley. Right at his side.

“Yeah. I’ve only had alcohol to drink tonight. I need something in my system that my liver can actually process.” As he said that, Marley took a large sip.

“I didn’t know you drank so much now..” Scrooge’s voice was just as tired as he looked, slightly scratchy and strained from the fatigue.

“I only picked it up recently. Seventeen and all, allowed to do shit like an adult.” He watched the water swirl in the glass, sort of like he watched the wine earlier. Yet the clear liquid was much less interesting than the sparkling maroon wine.

“Are you not.. scared?” Scrooge whispered, condensation forming on the rim of his glass.

“Scared? Of what? The vodka boogeyman getting me for having a shot?” Marley chuckled under his breath - but Scrooge cut in through his laughter smoothly.

“No, like.. What it can do to you? Hangovers and being drunk? You’re going to one day do some really dumb shit and regret it..” Scrooge finished his glass and slipped it into the sink. Marley followed suit.

“I won’t. I know my limits." He scoffed under his breath and began to leave the room.

“Then remember them. Please.” Scrooge strained that last part - stopping Marley in his tracks and forcing him to return.

“Scrooge why.. Why are you telling me this?” A brow rose on Marley’s face, standing right before Scrooge’s hunched, tired body.

“I just.. I had a bad dream and it made me think-” He attempted to shrug, but Marley’s hands firmly gripped his shoulders still.

“You didn’t have one of your night terrors, did you?” Concern lodged in his throat as he lightly shook Scrooge - soft tears in the corners of his eyes

“No no.. It was.. just a bad dream-” His hands rose up from his sides and gripped Marley’s wrists, slowly pulling them off of his shoulders.

“I just don’t.. don’t wanna lose you, I guess-” Scrooge had hardly finished his sentence before Marley resisted his hands and brought him into a hug in the middle of the kitchen. A hug that went reciprocated. Tightly.

“You won’t, Scrooge. I’m not going anywhere. Ever. You’ll always have me. Whether I’m in arms reach, or miles away.. We could be countries apart - but you’ll never lose me.” Each word that left Marley’s lips came from pure sincerity and honesty. From the heart. All was true. No matter where or how far - he’d always belong to Scrooge..

They hugged for a while, softly rocking side to side and breathing into each other's shoulders. Scrooge softly huffed through gentle tears that thankfully passed quickly. Though time didn’t stop and only kept ticking. Lost minutes of sleep now become dire.

“Alright man, get back to sleep-” Marley broke the hug, rubbing his thumb across Scrooge’s cheek and wiping off a half dried tear. He pat Scrooge’s shoulders before pulling himself off fully. 

Scrooge didn’t respond to that and simply obeyed, making his way out of the kitchen - but stopping at the door to look back at Marley.

“Goodnight, Mar.”

“Goodnight, Scrooge. Sweet dreams, and whatnot.”

What followed was the creak of the wooden stairs and the mechanic, springy squeal of the old couch as the two nestled into their beds. Well, Marley on the couch and Scrooge in his bed. Belle was his company, whilst Marley only had pillows to hold. She nestled into Scrooge’s chest once he’s returned - immediately sensing a smell she recognised. A smell that led her to back up. Marley’s cologne. That goddamn coffee scent that lingered in every room of this house, especially this bedroom. Now on Scrooge.

It’d take more than just nestling and cuddling to kill the desire that challenged hers.

Chapter Text

December 26th, 2021 - 2:40 AM.

My eyes forced themselves open, welcoming me into a room that I hadn’t seen before.. But a room that felt awfully familiar and nostalgic. The dryness in my eyes felt unusual, the blurriness however was common. My vision has never been great. I spotted a pair of glasses on an unfamiliar windowsill to my left. Assuming that they were mine, I slipped them on my nose. To my relief, I saw clearer with them. Though now, I wish I’d have left them in that spot.

My feet pulled from beneath the warm sheets and plummeted into the cold pit that was the room. It was so strangely cold.. A type of cold that somehow felt familiar..? My hand wafted lightly through the air and indeed - a wave of deja vu hit me. Though I could’ve sworn I’ve never been here.. That I’d never seen this room. Or that I’ve felt such a chill indoors. Shivers began to run across my back and under my skin, like ants.. A nearby blanket would work as my shield. My feet began to carry me through the cold halls of this obscure home. The halls were smothered in frames, but the glass was shattered and any paintings or photos framed within them were gray and dusted with age. Whose house was this and how old was it..? Why was I here? I crept over the broken shards of glass on the rough, wood panels of the floor. They felt colder and colder the further I strayed from the room, as if all the warmth in this place was contained in that box. My search continued.

More empty, cracked frames materialised at my sides alongside a set of stairs at my feet. I took each step down with utmost precision and care. Each step of mine triggered an almost animalistic and vociferous growl from the squeaky wood. A fragrant wood, perhaps timber. Though after the third step - I’d noticed that the growl wasn’t coming from the stairs, but beyond. In the room to my right of the steps. As I took the fourth step down, a wave of unpredictable nausea hit me like a ton of bricks. The vulgar scent of bitter whiskey, cigarettes and black coffee - all mauled together with a sour hint of.. acidity..? I doubled over, holding burning bile in my throat. I’d never smelt something so incredibly vile and rotten. It is what I imagine an uncovered graveyard to smell of. The scent of death and damp soil. It’d somehow permeated the walls of this place and stuck to the walls like pain. The scent only got worse as I kept making my way down. But some aspects of it were drawing me in.. They were scents I knew and associated with good memories, but also scents that I associated with bad memories- but do not wish to know. Scents that bring unpleasant memories. Scents that bring back visions of what could’ve been, versus what was and is.

I leaped off the last step and creeped towards the right - where the noise was coming from. The growling, despite me being closer, had completely softened and stopped. Whereas, the stench of sour vomit continued to fill the cold air. I pinched my nose with my blanketed hand, pulling in the scent of the mysterious and slightly rough fabric. It smelt damp and upsetting, I almost preferred the smell of bile, and chose to uncover my face. Only to be wafted with an even stronger, repulsively potent redolence. It forced a harsh, dry cough from my lungs. Splutters of my repressed bile came with and singed the floor, bleaching the spots on the panels as if it were a rough, intrusive chemical. The remainders dripped down my lip and rolled back down my throat. Now, I wanted to stay put. To run back up those stairs and return to the unusual comfort of that unfamiliar bed. It’d be better than this zombified, decayed house that perpetually reeks of expiration.

My feet continued to carry me, despite the entire rest of my body refusing. They stepped past the bleached dots, the blanket hung on my back dragging through them and absorbing any remnants of my bile. But there’d be much more to soak.

A couch materialised out of brown, ratty dust. A figure on said couch. A figure I know all too well. A figure whose face I know more than my own. Grown unrecognisable with necrosis. Marley.

The figure’s eyes were wan and devoid of all colour or life. Completely drained and painted gray with cessation, with wide, dark and dilated drunken pupils. The skin that wrapped the bones of the silhouette - once umber and sunkissed, now pale and tinted with a deathly shade of purple. Each individual flat vein was visible through the translucent cast of skin. They remained a dull blue. A chilled, half full bottle lie at level with the figure’s arm: cold fingers still curled around the wet neck. The condensation of the bottle stuck to the skin, gluing the bottle to the palm. A disorderly pool of brown acid pooled at the side of its cheek and down the side of the leather couch: disgorged and fresh - warmer than the body itself, still actively slipping from its open mouth. Occasional, liquidy streaks of crimson slithered out alongside the lurch and dripped thickly on the back of the white, frail hand. Each limb hung loosely over itself, curled and contorted as if the chassis had been victim to a tightrope accident or had fallen off an insane height. 

The stillness of death shuddered through me to the bone, though I was sure the chill was much stronger and shuddered through the man before me much stronger. My eyes travel up the figure and its still eyes meet mine. My own pair begin to twitch at the sight of the full visage. Hollowed out cheekbones with patchy blood splotches dabbed over them like cheap makeup. The flesh looks to have been scooped from the skull from within - with dull and rusty tools. I finally began to fully realise what I was looking at.

His once full and voluminous head of curls had been reduced to matted locks that were slick with sweat and stuck to his face. Each curl flattened into its own frizzy ecosystem and brushed his brows. The longer ones towards the side of his head had fully unravelled and dipped themselves to the puddle ejecting from his mouth and stuck to the matching, damp revolting cheek.

Not a single limb of mine moved. Only thick tears and sniffles escaped me as I stayed put. The sight itself was an eyesore, but the thought of him dying alone was worse. It felt similar to the carve of my bones earlier - but deep in my chest. Synonymous to heartbreak or heartburn. He’d died a cold, rigid and lonely death. His only company being room temperature whiskey, a sticky leather couch and stubbed out cigarettes that covered the carpet beneath. The dust of cigarettes covered his chest and neck. By now, looking engraved. There was no telling how old this corpse was just by looking..

The very second I regained control of my limbs, my legs instinctively leaped over to him and shook his lifeless, loose shoulders. Words tried to escape, but only tears that sprinted down my rosy, living cheeks and met his hollow, bloodless skin. Pleas and cries for help began to slip. Repeatedly. Bringing my lips to his and forcing air into his lungs, pressing my hands into his chest as hard as I could to the point of purple fingers and palms from all the pressure I was putting onto him.

But nothing happened. All my shaking did was force more bile from his stomach to collapse on me and slobber me in the scent of the dead. As if the corpse was welcoming me into a bitter and cold afterlife - the same one it received. Though a death by such means was not one I aimed to achieve. Even if I was to die at his side. I wouldn’t want to die in such a way. Neither would he.

This wasn’t purposeful-

**

Scrooge sprung up from his bed in heavy pants - doused in sweat head to toe, dry tears sticking to the side of his face. The room was dark and misty, a cold wind slipping through the open window. The clock on his windowsill read 2:45 AM. Morning. The room, though dark, was familiar. It was a dream.. Thank God it was a dream. 

Belle slept peacefully on his left, softly hiccuping in her sleep - as she tends to do. Based on the dried remnants of tears - Scrooge was surprised his weeping hadn’t woken her. He threw the sheets off himself, but ensured that she was still fully concealed in warmth. Upon rising, he first shut the window.

A short venture to the bathroom was next. A tiptoed, hushed venture. Waking anyone at his hour would raise questions as to why he was up so late. Damp toilet paper, breathing exercises and a small towel did the trick. His eyes remained slightly bloodshot, but that could always be excused as tiredness or drowsiness if anyone was to wake and ask. He didn’t doubt that Marley would still be awake at such an hour.

That’s right.. Marley-

The dream suddenly flashed back and forced a frustrated, fearful grunt from Scrooge’s lips - suppressed and muffled with the sweaty towel..

Now he had to go check. What if it wasn’t a dream and instead a foreshadowing of the future..? His paranoia ran sky high and forced him out the bathroom and down the stairs. Though he was slightly hesitant and fearful. Each time he dropped a step, his knees quivered and hands got squelchy with sweat. It wouldn’t be possible, can’t be possible for Marley to be in such a state. He was reckless and dumb with his decisions, but he wasn’t so dumb to drink himself to death.. Right-?

Confirmation was given almost immediately in the sound of trickling water from the kitchen.

Please be him.. Please be Marley.. Please-

His bare feet slipped across the wooden panels and towards the shady kitchen, lit dimly with only one out of two lights on. A deep, hearty, weighted sigh pushed itself from his lungs as a brown coil became visible. It indeed was Marley, in his usual state.  Tall, with relaxed pose and posture. Toned, sunkissed skin. Refined, only slightly frizzy coils and active, melanated eyes with that perfect, lively sepia hue. The light look of confusion on his face felt liberating.

A soft, freeing smile found itself on Scrooge’s face.

“You’re still up?”

Chapter Text

September 1st, 2023.

Time thrusted past in sharp waves like winter wind. Suddenly, exams were over and a memento of the past. All three landed grades they were pleased with. Scrooge and Belle, after perilous studying and brain compressing flashcard making - scored grade 7s and above. Proud and successful grades, but lousy in comparison to Marley’s fresh, flawless 8s and 9s exclusively. Majority 9s - and with minor studying, as if preparation was below him. Besides, they all followed suit and went to the same college - remaining a trio. Though Marley had only gone there to be with Scrooge. If he was to have gone to a different college, Marley would’ve followed like a baby duck follows its mother. Except its lovestruck teen wandering after an already decided couple.

College flew by just as fast and just as smoothly, with only minor hiccups and brief disconnect between all three during exams or tests and a warm reunion after results. Once more, success for all three. Marley had chosen courses he was actually passionate about, so studying was no longer quite so below him - as he enjoyed doing the subjects he chose. Whereas, Scrooge was stuck doing a course he hated for the first two months until finally being able to drop it and continue with his remaining 3.

Now, came more individual choices. Universities. Whether they would split here and go their own ways or go as a three to the same one. With minor deliberation, the latter was chosen. Courses that suited each one were offered, and it was fairly nearby. The choice was obvious. For Marley - who’d just followed Scrooge’s footsteps everywhere, going to the same college was a given. For Belle, who’d spent all of College keeping watchful eyes on the two and noticing just how close they were, going to the same University was a way of monitoring them. She trusted Scrooge - of course, but she didn’t trust Marley enough to leave them as a pair.

Scrooge and Marley swam towards a future in economics, both selecting the ‘Economics’ course. Scrooge’s secondary choice was Biology whilst Marley’s was Law. They’d both selected to be part time students - acknowledging the fact they’ll spend the next four to six years of their life finishing those courses. Belle decided to hum a different rhythm to the two and sway towards Sociology, Psychology, Biology and Linguistics - becoming a full time student. Though different courses were chosen, the three all promised to keep connected. The best way to do that would be to all live together in one accommodation, or house nearby campus. The benefits included interconnectedness but also included bill-splitting and a chore rota to ensure all contribute to the welfare of the home.. The problem came with finding an affordable place..

Finding a place nearby the university was the easy part, landlords and home renters jumped at the opportunity of setting up ‘For Sale’ or ‘For Rent’ signs on homes nearby. Home renters wanted company, whilst landlords wished to syphon any pitiful dregs of money held by students. The institution itself offered student accommodation, but only in single, tiny rooms at a price that made even the wasteful and wealthy squirm. Finding an accommodation nearby outside of the university would be more suitable (and lighter on their pockets.)

Thankfully, a familiar face - Bob Cratchit, who also happened to also choose Economics alongside the boys, was much more studious in his time management and had rented an accommodation nearby the University in advance. His was a part of an apartment complex, a place for two and fairly spacious with minor (if any) problems. His roommate of choice was a man unknown to the three, but known very well by Bob. He was called Joel, but that was about all they knew of him. Besides the ambiguous roommate, Bob came in with a recommendation for Scrooge, Marley and Belle. The door opposite his and Joel’s freed up since the two previously living there had graduated. It’d be a similar room, he’d guessed. Though there was only room for two - they went as a three for the look-in the following day.

“It’s a rather spacious place, but small enough to not be a hassle to clean” The aged landlord, dubbed “Pentwood” peered at the group of three. They observed individual aspects of the house in varying concentration. Scrooge’s eyes only lightly skimmed, Belle’s eyes lingered on certain aspects and Marley’s eyes glued to the littlest details. 

“It’s lovely, really!” Belle said in response, feeling amiable towards the space.

“You’ve come in a group of three, though I cannot confirm that there’d be enough space for you all to live comfortably. In two, it can get crowded at times..” Pentwood cleared his throat, awaiting for two to speak up and claim the room as a duo - singling out one.

Marley slowly paced around the upstairs whilst any discussion with the landlord muffled from distance. His feet slowly skid across the panels, eyes travelling leisurely around each corner of the room. One had a double bed whilst one had a single. It’d be fitting for three in terms of sleeping - but not in full living. The rest of the house was made for two. The kitchen had two seats in the corner, the couch only comfortably fit two, the bathroom had two toothbrush holders. Incorporating a third may make bills cheaper, but it’d make life cramped. Besides, the thought of a double bed to himself rang pleasantly in his ears. Though a double bed to share with Scrooge had his spine tingle in excitement.

Leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, his ears began to pick up on the slightly audible conversation. Though he could only pick out some words from between the walls of the hallway.

“Marley could..”

“He’s..”

“..wouldn’t mind!”

“But-” 

He landed on the bottom step, immediately being noticed by Scrooge and Belle.

“Two bedroom place. Someone’s gotta fend for themselves.” Marley stated the obvious plainly, Scrooge sighing lightly and turning back around.

Belle’s eyes kept themselves wide and bulging at Marley - unblinking and unmoving. She soon began to mouth words.

“Marley.. Please.” She appeared to be saying. Marley simply looked over the top of his glasses and stared back with a soft headshake. She mouthed again, now with furrowed brows and pleading eyes - but Marley just suppressed a laugh and looked away. Belle pressed her lips inwards and turned back forwards with a soft clearing of her throat.

“I can live separately, as long as it’s close.” She spat out, Marley grinning to himself and coming up behind Scrooge. A gentle hand lay on his shoulder. Scrooge quickly gazed at Belle and gripped her hand nervously

“Are you sure, baby?” He held her hand close as she nodded slightly hesitantly and forced a smile.

“It’s fine, I like my privacy anyways..” She cast a glare at Marley quickly in anger. All he did was squeeze Scrooge’s shoulder reassuringly. Scrooge looked up to Marley with questioning eyes, as if to get his insight too.

Fuck, he’s adorable.. Asking me permission to live with me, as if I’d ever decline such an offer. Alone with him, every night and morning. Sleeping only mere metres away from him. The thought of it is enough to make me swoon..

“Well, I don’t object.” Marley shrugged with a huff as Scrooge displayed a soft smile. Of course he wouldn’t have minded living with Belle either - but living with his childhood best friend felt like a right of passage in their friendship. But so did living with your partner..

“Well then!” Pentwood clasped his hands and dug two sheets from a folder at his side, presenting them to Scrooge and Marley alongside two cheap pens. “Please sign those.”

Both nodded and clicked their pens, curling their backs over the coffee table to fill in the details. Belle watched with a light pout before a similar paper and plastic pen were thrust forth of her. She raised a brow.

“There’s a free single room on the third floor, if you’d like to stay there. The layout is much similar to this one.” A relieved smile replaced her pout as she took the sheet from Pentwood and gripped the rubber pen grip. He placed himself on a worn leather armchair in the corner, waiting for the papers to be signed. Marley and Scrooge were quick to finish and return the sheets, receiving a set of keys each. A dark blue fob on the keyring. Belle followed suit, being given a single key with a pink fob.

“Any details and such will be sent to you through your emails, so I would check those regularly.” Pentwood rose and adjusted his thin, silver framed glasses. The three all nodded and thanked the landlord in unison as he took his leave.

“Well. Guess we’re all sorted then.” Scrooge spoke first, Belle hummed in agreement.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy to get a place-” Marley observed the key and ran his finger along the serrated edge.

“It's basic accommodation. There isn’t much that needs to be done. He’ll probably bring health and safety and whatnot papers sooner or later. We’ll have a lot more to sign..” Belle slipped in and shrugged.

“Even if we’re not all together - it’s fine. We’re all still in the same building.” Scrooge leaned back on the couch, staring at the patterned ceiling.

“Yeah..” Belle bitterly agreed, biting her tongue back.

“We should pack and move in then.. first day is in a week.” Marley swung the key around his finger and approached the door, swinging it open.

“Right, I’ll call Dad to pick us up.” Rising from the leather couch, Scrooge stretched slightly and slid his phone from his pocket to call Fezziwig for a ride. 

“We’ll be outside then” Marley held the door for Belle, but no thanks was exchanged. Only a bitter, spiteful look as he closed the door behind him.

“Why the long face?” The sarcastic remarks immediately began.

“I can’t even live with my own boyfriend, can I?!” She stomped her foot as her brows curled inwards. Marley threw his hands at level with his ears defensively.

“Jesus, I never said you couldn’t-” He looked her up and down, sensing her fury build and revelling in it.

“You shook your head at me when I asked. You want him all to yourself!” Belle hissed, causing Marley’s face to contort slightly.

“No. You chose to say you’ll live alone. You could’ve completely disregarded me and said you and him would take the place - but you didn’t. That’s your fault. It’s too late to be bitching to me about it.” Marley spoke firmly, his arms relaxed now and one into his trouser pocket. 

“Besides, what are you bitching about? You’re only a floor above us.” He looked and pointed up, but the corners of Belle’s eyes still wrinkled in anger.

“You didn’t address that second part..” Belle murmured.

“Because I didn’t need to. I don’t want him all to myself.” Marley’s tone lowered more into a hissed whisper, as if he was weary that Scrooge may be listening.

“You’re a bad liar.” She folded her arms over her puffed chest.

“And you’ve got a bad temper. You’re hardly a minute away from us, loosen up.” He used the bottom of his palm to push her right shoulder semi-playfully, but semi-aggressively.

“You’re doing everything you can to split us up, it’s so obvious!” An irritated growl presented itself on Belle’s face “I see right through your shit.”

“I’m not doing anything, Belle. I have a right to spend time with him, just as much as you do. He’s not all yours. We share him, like we agreed to years ago.” Marley’s face remained flat - looking incredibly calm near Belle’s seething expression. 

“You want him to choose between us though, You don’t want to share him. You never willingly agreed to that. Just as long as Scrooge is in the equation - you’re in!” Belle’s accusations continued as Marley held back an infuriatingly genuine laugh.

“Even if I did, you wouldn’t be able to blame me for his choice, would you?” His hand softly ruffled through his head of thick curls, subtly flaunting them.

“I know what you’re doing, Marley-! Quit playing dumb already!“ Her temper withered as her left eye twitched. Marley’s cunning, sarcastic tone sent a fire of rage through her effortlessly.

“And what exactly is that? All your accusations of me so far have been blindly wrong.” Marley leaned forward, hissing his next words through his pearly teeth.

“If you’re jealous and insecure, say that.” His head tilted to the side as he slowly drew himself away from Belle, whose face had grown red and contorted with anger by now.

“Insecure?!” She yelped immediately, putting her arms forth of her and pushing Marley’s shoulders - to no avail. He hardly moved an inch.

“What was that supposed to do?” A brow rose on his face, Belle exhaled sharply and crossed her arms anew.

“I’m not insecure! You’re the one who is!” Belle pointed an accusatory, curved, painted nail at him.

“Right, sure, and I’m the Pope.” He nodded with a sarcastic grin - finishing. Mainly because he could hear a familiar pair of footsteps approaching the door, which his hand rested on. Belle too heard the approaching steps and zipped her mouth shut, despite the fierce flame resting on her tongue.

“Dad will be here in ten, he’ll drop us all off and pick us all up with our stuff.” Scrooge swung the door open with a smile and slipped his phone in his pocket. His back pressed itself against the door frame and suspiciously eyes looked Marley and Belle up and down. Both stood tense and turned away from one another, bitterly gazing with snarls and dramatic scoffs.

“Are you guys.. okay-?” He raised a brow, alerting both. They suddenly stood up straight. Marley nodded quickly whilst Belle used words to justify herself, but only made herself look more suspicious.

“Why would we not be? We’re fine.” She avoided Marley’s judgemental eyes. Pointlessly, as he crimped his nose and pinched his eyes closed with three fingers from frustration. His glasses loosely rested against his knuckles

God, he couldn’t be any more oblivious. And she couldn’t be any more obvious.. I’m surrounded by morons..

“Alright..” Scrooge nodded slowly and returned to silence. Marley finished pressing his nose and readjusted his glasses and Belle leant on the wall, her hair slightly frizzing up against the rough wallpaper.

After an excruciatingly awkward and long silence, only interrupted by soft scoffs and sighs and eventually - the light buzz of a phone in Scrooge’s pocket. He cleared his throat and checked its screen.

“He’s here.” Scrooge brought his back away from the doorframe and shut it behind him, locking it with his set of keys. Marley and Belle followed behind - keeping a distance, as if either were contagious.

When in the elevator, Scrooge stood in the middle whilst Marley and Belle claimed their own sides of the metal box. Even refusing to leave at the same time and demanding that one leaves before the other - despite the wide, two person doors. The distance was growing ridiculous, but Scrooge kept his lips pursed and waited for the tension to pass, though it only tensed. In the car, Scrooge tended to sit in the front whilst Marley and Belle sat in the backseat. Marley on the left, Belle on the right. They never kept too far of a distance and sometimes even had conversations on trips or rides, but today - they were pressed against the car door to be as far away from one another as possible. Of course, Fezziwig noticed. He treated them as if all were his children rather than one. He glared at Scrooge, who shrugged with a confused expression in response and mouthed "I don't know either”

With no further comment, Fezziwig also shrugged and began to drive. The shrill of modern pop coming from the radio, filling in the awkward silence and serving as white noise. Since they didn’t all live together currently - Marley and Belle had to be dropped off at their respective houses to pack their things and call when ready. Belle was first to be dropped, then Marley.

Prideful of the independent woman their daughter was becoming, Belle’s parents encouraged her departure into living alone, nearer to campus and helped her pack her suitcase. Folding each shirt, wrapping each bottled liquid as if it were going abroad when it was only going twenty minutes from where it was now. Her room was licked clean of all she could’ve possibly needed, or didn’t need at all.

“Have you packed a hairbrush yet, amore?” Lucia, Belle’s mother croaked from the hallway.

“Yes, Mama. I have two already-” Belle sighed with a soft smile, hearing her father’s steps squeak up the stairs with gentle grunts. He entered the room with a crate.

“I found a box of some of your old crafts and drawings in the attic, you should take some for display. Some of these are lovely.” Dante reached into the dusty crate and removed an even dustier ceramic mug. Slightly misshapen, but beautifully, smoothly painted and glazed in the look of a strawberry. With small, dark divots for seeds, a light pink base (which appeared more mauve now) and a dark green, leafy rim. The handle was curved and almost resembled half a heart.

“Awh, that is quite a nice cup!” She shed a soft smile at it, remembering the troublesome time she had making it as a thirteen year old girl, much before she had met Scrooge or Marley..

“This cup is beautiful! You must keep it!” Insisting she takes it, Dante wrapped it in some spare newspaper at the bottom of the crate and presented it to Belle. With a sheepish smile, she took the wrapped cup from her father’s rough hands and gently packed it into a bare corner of the light pink suitcase.

Meanwhile, Marley hurriedly and messily packed away his clothes into his tattered old suitcase. Worn edges, peeled silicone handle and chunky old zippers that had an awful rusty scratch to them when pulled closed. It’d work well enough, it’s not like he was taking it abroad. Only thirty or so minutes away was his new accommodation. This was hardly him moving out, more like switching rooms.

Whilst shoving jeans into the corner, Avani peered around the corner and slipped her head through the slither of space between the wall and the door. For a while, she just observed Marley and watched him pack hastily before clearing her throat to finally announce her presence. A presence that was sensed by Marley before she’d even finished coming up the stairs or down the hall.

“What’s the rush? You’re packing as if you’re late for a flight.” She’d fully entered the room now, softly shutting the door behind her as Marley continued to pack piles of clothes into the already overflowing suitcase.

“If you’ve got some smug or sappy life lesson to teach me about ‘navigating life on my own now!’ and ‘independence’, I don’t want to hear it.” Coldly - as always, Marley replied. Avani simply sighed in response and approached the bed where the suitcase was placed. She began to remove the wrinkled, pressed in clothes and folded them gently - creating neat piles in the corners of the suitcase.

“You might not want to hear it, but you need to. You’re a grown man now - leaving the home you were raised in and - hopefully, finding greener pastures.” She took control over organisation, Marley just standing on the side with crossed arms and loose, unbothered shoulders. He would say something to shut her up, but he knew better than to stop his mother when she was mid-sentence. Or mid Ted-Talk.

“I know what you’re like, Jacob.” Avani suddenly stopped folding, holding a halved shirt in her hands. Marley raised a brow as she glanced at him with eyes that twinkled with tears. “And I know what University is like. New people, a new scene. New things to try. But with that, come new things to refuse-” and with that, Marley had heard enough.

“And this is going to devolve into a ‘don’t do drugs or have sex!’ talk. Don’t bother, Ma.” He took the shirt from Avani’s hands and finished folding it, placing it over top of a folded pair of jeans. In response, all she did was scrunch her nose and brows with a grunt before picking up another article of clothing from the muddled side of the suitcase.

“I am serious this time..” A sudden solemness became apparent in her voice. “I know you like I know the back of my hand, and I know that you might end up in that kind of..” She hesitated.  “scene..” but was soon to pick up again - “Meddling with the wrong kinds of people, in the wrong place at the wrong time - I don’t want you to go down that path. It’s messy. Really messy, and it’ll do you no good, now or in future.”

“I wonder who taught you that lesson.” Marley sneered and kissed his teeth at her, turning his head away and folding clothes with slightly more urgency than she, sliding them along to Avani’s side.

A slow passing silence followed that comment. Only the soft rustling of fabric could be heard and the gentle clang of rusty metal against itself on the zipper. Their hands continued to work and fold clothes until all that Marley had tossed in now had its own space whilst taking up a lot less space. About half the suitcase was now miraculously freed up.

Avani cleared her throat and smiled tearfully at her son. Though her own, looking at him brought a sense of unfamiliarity and unease.. As if she was looking at a whole different person, but she supposed that was right. Her son had changed drastically in the past few years, a new aura enveloped him and surrounded him in an atmosphere of bravado - yet, insecurity.

“No matter who taught the lesson, what matters is what was learnt.” Her voice lightly quivered.

Strange. She’s never particularly emotional when talking about Dad.. She’s softened up, but I've toughened and I stopped giving a shit about that asshole years ago. I hardly remember his eyes, and he’s probably long forgotten mine, before he was even locked up - the bastard.

“Your father was the biggest mistake I made, Jacob.. Please - and I mean it, do not be my next.” Avani lie a hand on Marley’s shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. Only reciprocated for about a minute before Marley gently pushed her off, though his touch felt suppressed. As if he was holding back dudgeons of aggression - trying to be gentle, poorly.

“I’m not like him, Ma.” He began sincerely, but his typical bitterness was quick to return as he shoved anything else he needed into the empty side of the suitcase, zipped it and pulled it off the sheets. “You can stop pissing yourself over it already. I won't become some methhead, you think I’m dumb enough to do that shit?”

He pulled the door open with his free hand.

“I’ll see you in December, Christmas break. I won’t bother visiting - it’s only a few months.”

The sound of ratty suitcase wheels scuttering across wood panels grew fainter and fainter before being followed by the slam of a door.

Avani’s eyes darted around Marley’s bare room - finding themselves glued to a plain picture frame. Though she could’ve sworn there was a photo there before.. 

***

In one of the concealed folds of the suitcase lie a collection of polaroids. Scrooge, Scrooge, Scrooge. Over and over on repeat. Tens of them - if not even hundreds of little sheets smothered in his face. Though one, larger than the others - the only one that didn’t have a single semblance of Scrooge. One of Avani and Marley. Exclusively. His juvenile round face and characteristic curls against her olive, fresh skin. Dated on the back, in Avani’s cursive handwriting - August 5th 2013.

“Jacob’s first day back to school!”

***

“How times change.. huh?” She mumbled to herself, recalling the photo in the frame. She remembered placing the photo there as the first thing to enter the room. Now it’d be first to leave. Though a part of her wished to scream and yell and shout at this.. ungrateful, selfish beast she had raised - she knew it wasn’t her who had caused this. She knew a part of her son remained. The son she raised, not the son he ‘raised’.

Somewhere in Marley’s cold heart, beneath this mask of obstinacy and disobedience - somewhere, even if in a dark place. Somewhere was Jacob. She just didn’t know how much was left of him. Sooner or later, she’ll have lost her son - and only Marley would remain, as a permanent shadow of the man he once called ‘father’.

A permanent reminder of how she failed to heal the scars he’d left on the poor child. The fiend - Santiago.. Locked away for decades to come, but living vicariously and unknowingly through his only son. Once a prize possession, now a forever forgotten memory.

***

How strange is it..

To know concrete cell walls better than the voice of your son? For him to know your face through only fragmented childhood memories? For him to remember your voice as drunken and groggy? For him to know the smell of whiskey and cigarettes and consider it.. homely..?

For him to not know you at all! Yet still be just like you.. You’ve been gone for thirteen years. But you never really leave, do you? 

How is it that you find me so easily? Even when I spend a decade hiding from you. You send me yourself in a form born of my own body. In my own son. Your only son. Our only son, but simultaneously our biggest mistake..

You come in the form of a son whose eyes you’ll never know. But know this - when you look in the mirror and recall your young self, the ‘you’ I remember - that is who I see forth from me.

It isn’t Marley, it isn’t Jacob.

It’s you, Santiago.

Even so far removed from society - you somehow still haunt my dreams. And his too.. I wonder the thoughts and feelings that plague him because of what you did to him.. What you gave him. A curse he’ll live with until the day he dies. A burden I’ll live with until the day I die.

But I know the day you drop dead is the day I shall feel true liberation. It shall be the day my son is returned to me. Not without scars. Not without trauma. Not without years of irreparable damage done to his soul, body and mind. Though I know..

It’ll be a fault of ours. Never his.. Though I wish it was never mine.